


I'll Always Take Care of You

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Dean Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Depressed Sam, Fluff, Grumpy Sam, Hospital Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Swearing, Top Sam Winchester, implied Max Banes/Alicia Banes, mentions of canonical torture, pouty sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 13:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8846239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dean calls Mary back to the bunker over the Christmas season after Sam breaks his wrist and requires surgery. But, considering that they’re hiding their relationship from her, her reappearance puts a severe strain on them.





	1. I'll Always Take Care of You

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【中文翻译】I'll Always Take Care of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584234) by [Adelay0821](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adelay0821/pseuds/Adelay0821)
  * Translation into 中文 available: [【中文翻译】I'll Always Take Care of You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9584234) by [Adelay0821](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adelay0821/pseuds/Adelay0821)



> Written for the 12 Days of Christmas Collab on Tumblr.  
> Day 1 Prompt: wreaths and fuzzy socks.

The way Dean arched his back would make a porn star green with envy.

 

Sam barely had time to set their half empty bottle of lube on the bedside stand before his big brother - and lover - was writhing, grinding against the cock buried to the hilt inside him.

 

Not that Sam had any problem giving him what he wanted; their mother would be coming by in just under two weeks now, staying for an undetermined amount of time, and she still didn't know her little boys were sleeping together in the most unbrotherly of ways. Which of course meant sleeping in separate beds, stealing secret kisses in passing, and no sex; it was just too risky considering their mom had hunter’s instincts - she'd pick up on the squeaking of a bed when her boys were supposed to be sleeping in a heartbeat.

 

So they were getting their fill as much as they could. Two weeks off from the job, spending hours in each other’s arms, having relatively romantic dinners, just generally hoping they could satisfy their need to be more than brothers, at least a little, before she showed.

 

Dean's body jerked when Sam nudged his prostate, his arms giving out. He splayed them out, nudging the bedside stand and burying his face in the pillow, shouting in pleasure.

 

Sam groaned, sliding his hands down Dean's smooth, freckled back as his hips pistoned, chasing their orgasms.

 

Dean came first; he lost it the moment Sam took his aching cock in hand and gave it a few firm strokes, spilling over the bed and his stomach with a groan of Sam's name.

 

As he came he clenched around Sam, his hole fluttering with the pulse of his climax. Sam gasped at the sudden tightness, the fingers of his free hand biting into Dean's hip.

 

He continued to fuck into him as hard as he could, working Dean through his orgasm. His hips slammed forward, the wet slap of skin and creak of the bed sounding downright naughty in the otherwise silent bunker.

 

"Oh fuck, Dean," Sam managed to pant before he stiffened, buried as deep as he could get. His cock pulsed and jerked as he came, and Dean's cock gave a final twitch and dribble of come as Sam filled him.

 

Sam collapsed over Dean's still arched back, panting against his shoulder.

 

"You're welcome," Dean grunted, earning a weak punch to the ribs.

 

"You came too," Sam breathed, kissing along Dean's back.

 

"Because you were pounding the hell out of my spot."

 

"Only cause my cock couldn't _go_ anywhere else. Your asshole is still so fucking tight I'm shocked I can get into you."

 

Dean laughed then. "Gotta keep it tight for my baby brother don't I? I know how much you like that virgin feeling," he teased.

 

Sam nipped his shoulder blade. "Behave or I'll fuck you again."

 

"You say that like I'd be opposed."

 

Sam rolled his hips, his still half hard cock grinding directly against Dean's prostate. He jerked and moaned, gasping.

 

"Okay, yeah, too much. I'm opposed."

 

"Thought so." 

 

Sam pulled out slowly and kissed Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll grab something to drink.”

 

Dean smiled up at him. “Thanks, Sammy.”

 

Sam swung his feet off the edge of the bed and stood up. He only took one step before his bare foot stepped in the sticky, slick lube from the bottle Dean had knocked off when he hit the bedside stand. His foot went out from under him and he went down hard, reaching out to brace himself with his right hand.

 

First it was a terrible crunching noise and then _pain_. Sam shouted in shock and agony, flopping flat on the floor and grabbing his forearm.

 

Dean shot up. “Sam!”

 

He hopped out of the bed and crouched next to Sam.

 

“Shit, are you okay?”

 

Sam groaned, his face a mask of pain.

 

“My wrist again.”

 

“Can you move it?”

 

“I fucked it up, Dean – shit.” He groaned again and looked down, his wrist swelling up. Despite the swelling, he could see part of it at a very disturbing angle.

 

“Hospital.” Dean said quickly. He stood and went to grab their clothes quickly, mindful of the lube.

 

Dean helped Sam into his shirt, wincing whenever Sam would cry out in pain. “How many times you busted up this arm, huh?” He teased, trying to make Sam smile.

 

“Three times,” Sam panted. “At least, three times that I got it fixed by a doctor – who knows how many fractures it has that they don’t know about.”

 

Dean pulled Sam up, tossing his old shirt over the lube. “Taken out by lube, I can’t believe that.”

 

“Yeah, neither will the doctors,” Sam grumbled.

 

**

 

And they didn’t. Well, they may have believed him, but after the third nurse or hospital tech walked away snickering under their breath, Sam was _done_.

 

“Shoulda just put an ice pack on it,” Sam grumped, still holding his arm lightly. Dean reached out, running his hand over Sam’s back in a way that was supposed to be comforting.

 

“I can’t fix a broken wrist, Sam. Plus, the doc seems pretty worried considering you’ve broken it before. Twice.”

 

“First two times weren’t my fault,” Sam muttered, glaring daggers at the floor.

 

“Just, try to relax, huh?”

 

“This is ridiculous, Dean. Just make ‘em gimme a cast and I’ll be fine.”

 

“Let them x-ray your arm, Sammy. I’m right here. We’ll go out for ice cream after if you’re a good boy,” He teased and Sam’s eyes narrowed.

 

“You’re a dick.”

 

“I know.” Dean leaned forward, pressing his lips to Sam’s gently and quickly.

 

Sam slumped back on the bed.

 

“This is stupid,” He commented again.

 

“What is?”

 

“Everything. Stupid lube, stupid hospital, stupid wreaths. Who the hell puts up Christmas wreaths in emergency room spaces? No one is in the Christmas spirit when they’re in excruciating pain.”

 

Dean laughed a little at how childish his brother sounded, noticing for the first time the small wreaths circling the upper half of the room, tied together with red and gold ribbon.

 

“They’re kinda cute,” He tried, shrugging.

 

“They’re stupid,” Sam muttered, groaning when he moved his arm closer to his body.

 

**

 

Sam was brought to x-rays shortly, and didn’t look all that pleased when he returned.

 

‘It’s fucked,’ He mouthed to Dean. The nurse got him settled in and gently placed his wrist on an ice pack before hurrying out to get the doctor.

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked when she was gone.

 

“My wrist is totaled. I saw the x-rays; it looks shattered in at least three or four places. I’m gonna need surgery – man, this is gonna put me out of hunting for _months_.”

 

Dean gave Sam a confused look. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

 

“It’s our job.”

 

“It’s just a job, Sam. You can still do research and I can go gank things.”

 

“No. Not a chance. You aren’t going out there alone, especially with that reaper so damn eager to take our souls.”

 

“Oh come on, Sam. I’ll be fine.”

 

Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist with his good hand. “No.”

 

Dean smiled weakly. “Okay, fine, fine. We’ll figure it out after we hear what the doctor says.”

 

Sam leaned into Dean’s chest, grimacing whenever he attempted to shift his sore wrist.

 

“Hey, Sam,” The doctor said warmly when he came in.

 

Sam looked at him tiredly. “Glad I’m not dying – you guys must be busy,” He commented, no anger in his voice.

 

“We are a bit short staffed. Sorry about that. I looked over your x-rays and it does look like surgery is going to be required to fix up the fracture.”

 

Sam nodded. “I figured. So when do we do it?”

 

“Three days from now is the earliest we can get you in if you don’t want another opinion; a lot of people do. We can put you in a splint with painkillers and have you come back for your appointment. You _can_ stay overnight to make sure it doesn’t get worse, but I don’t know how good your insurance is since it’s not necessary.”

 

Sam shook his head. “No, I’ll go home.”  


“Sam, you don’t wanna screw it up worse,” Dean argued.

 

“But I want to sleep in our home. You know I hate hospitals, De.”

 

The doctor smiled a little and glanced at the chart. “Are you brothers?” He wondered aloud.

 

Dean looked up, a little surprised; normally they were assumed to be lovers. He opened his mouth, unsure what to say.

 

“My boyfriend,” Sam filled in. “Been together for years.”

 

“I’m so sorry. You two argue like brothers.”

  
Sam shrugged a little. “We get that a lot. So, you wanna make that appointment for me?”

 

The doctor nodded. “Of course, I’ll be right back.”

 

He ducked out and Dean raised his eyebrows. “We’re boyfriends now?”

 

“Did you want me to say brothers?” Sam hissed.

 

“We normally do.”

 

Sam scowled a little, surprised that Dean seemed to have a problem with this. “I—I’m sorry? I didn’t think you’d mind is all.” He shrugged, looking down.

 

“It’s fine,” Dean said softly, but Sam still felt like something was bugging him.

 

**

 

“I want to get _home_.” Sam complained, the pain medication from the hospital making him a little sleepy and a lot whiny.

 

“Just give me fifteen minutes, okay?”

 

Sam sighed and nodded, slumping down into the seat further. “Don’t know what you need at the store at midnight.”

 

“Something I realized I needed at the last minute. I’ll be quick.”

  
Sam watched Dean duck out of the car and jog inside before his eyes slipped shut with exhaustion.

 

**

 

When Sam awoke, he was warm and cozy under the blankets covering his and Dean’s bed. He was alone, but that wasn’t a surprise; Dean often rose in the night and wandered around or went to read – sleep never came easy for hunters after all.

 

He’d almost forgotten the broken wrist until he attempted to wipe his face down with his right hand and screamed in pain as a result.

  
Dean had to have been close; as soon as Sam screamed he was busting inside, out of breath and ready to attack.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Nothin’, sorry – I moved my arm too quick,” Sam muttered, cradling the arm close to his body again.

  
Dean sighed softly, relaxing a little. “Need more meds?”

 

“I’m okay.”

 

He crossed the distance between them and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

“I got you something.”

 

“What?” Sam muttered, leaning his head so he was brushing Dean’s thigh.

 

Dean reached down and picked up a small bag from the floor. He held it out to Sam, who grabbed it with his good hand and opened it, shooting Dean a death glare.

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“Nope. Now you won’t slip on lube again,” Dean explained, reaching in and pulling out the pair of bright red and green striped socks. They were fluffy and furry with small rubber grips in the shape of Christmas wreaths.

 

“You know you’re an ass.”

 

“I did it because I care,” He shot back, opening the socks and pulling the blankets away from Sam’s legs.

 

“Are you really gonna—Dean!”

 

Sam began to kick and wiggle his legs, laughing as Dean tickled the soles of his bare feet.

 

“Stop!”

 

Dean grinned but complied. Instead he tugged on the socks.

 

“See? Warm and cozy.”

 

“I can see that you’re a dick.” Sam said, rolling his eyes with a smile.


	2. I'm Not Six Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 prompts: patterned pajamas + cold days

“You know this sucks right?” Sam grumped on the way to the hospital.

 

“What does?”

 

“Surgery. I don’t _want_ to go through this.”

 

Dean sighed, “Sam, come on. If we don’t get your wrist fixed we’re gonna have a helluva lot more problems than a few months off. You could lose mobility in that wrist completely, do you want that? You’re right handed.”

 

Sam heaved an exasperated sigh and nodded, holding his wrapped arm. He looked outside at the snow, shivering and wincing when it jarred his arm.

 

“Too bad we can’t just relax in our warm and cozy bedroom, huh?” He asked, watching the snow fall to the ground.

 

“We can relax in the warm hospital room after your surgery though?” Dean offered, and Sam smiled a little.

 

“As long as you promise to warm me up if I get too cold.”

 

“For a guy as big as you are, that puts off as much as heat as you do, you don’t handle cold very well. Never have.”

  
Sam shrugged. “I don’t like cold days. But I’ve always had you to keep me warm.” He leaned against Dean’s shoulder with a goofy grin. Dean rolled his eyes but turned his head, pressing a kiss to Sam’s temple.

 

“You big baby.”

 

“Shut up, jerk.”

 

Dean was nervous. He knew he didn’t need to be, but the thought of Sam going for surgery, for _anything_ was nerve wracking. He hid it the best he could though, and offered Sam a deep kiss before they separated for Sam to go into the operating room.

 

A grueling two hours later, the doctor came out, smiling at Dean.

 

“Is he okay?” Dean asked, shooting up.

 

The doctor nodded. “He’s great. He’s in recovery now, you can go up and see him. I gotta ask – what does he do for a living?”

 

“What?”

 

“His bones – I’ve never seen such damage on a man his age. Well, maybe – if he was a pro fighter or something, but I didn’t see any work listed.”

 

“Oh, we uh, we’re mechanics. But we both work out a lot and he was a bit of a fighter when he was a kid.”

 

“Well, you’ve gotta make sure he takes it easy. We put some pins in his wrist, and braced it with a small plate.”

 

“Will he still be able to use it?”

 

“Of course, it shouldn’t mess with anything, but still. The damage to his arms – I can only imagine what else there’d be on his legs.”

 

Dean laughed a little. “Yeah, he’s a scrapper.”

 

“Well, keep him out of fights if you can.”

 

Dean nodded, snagging his and Sam’s coats and following the nurse up to Sam’s room.

 

**

 

“Sammy,” Dean said with a sigh of relief when Sam looked over at him from the hospital bed, his arm bandaged up, resting on top of the blankets.

 

“Hey, Dean.”

 

Dean went forward and kissed him gently. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” He admitted, relief clear in his voice.

 

“It was just surgery on my wrist, dude. You knew I’d be fine.”

 

“You never know, come on. People have gone in for surgery on ingrown hairs and ended up six feet under.”

 

“Wow, I love the optimism.”

 

Dean offered him a glare, sitting down next to the bed. “Doc said you were fine, but your bones are screwed to hell. I told him you were a fighter as a kid to explain it.”

 

“Cause fighting monsters is so much less believable?”

 

Dean stayed quiet, looking down at his hands. He was playing his fingers together, suddenly very interested in how each finger moved.

  
Sam scowled at the top of his head, instinctively knowing something was up.

  
“What?”

 

Dean sighed softly and looked up. “I um, I also called mom.”

 

“You called-- Come on, why’d you bother mom like that?”

 

“Sam, you were in surgery. She’d wanna know.”

 

Sam hesitated, knowing Dean was right. She might be distant from them but she _was_ still their mother. Something like surgery - even when your kid was in his thirties - was stressful and something important to know about.

 

“What’d she say?”

 

“She um, she’s on her way to the bunker. Told us she’d be there when we got back.”

 

Sam groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow.  


“There goes our week in peace.”

 

“Hey, at least she showed up when we called… And it could be good, Sam. You’re gonna be pretty useless for a few months – she could help,” He offered.

 

“Oh thanks,” Sam muttered sourly.

 

“You know what I meant.”

 

Sam sighed, looking down at his bandaged arm. “Yeah, I know. It fucking sucks.”

 

Dean stood and leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to Sam’s scruffy cheek. He stroked fingers through his hair and offered a soft smile.

 

“Shit happens, man. We’ll figure it out. We’ve worked with a broken wrist before.”

 

“Yeah, a broken wrist. Not complete surgery. Dean, I can’t even _move_ my hand for at least a month. Even then I’ll need physical therapy and that’s not even gonna guarantee full mobility back. What if I can’t shoot anymore? I’m useless now and I’ll be useless after it heals.”

 

“Hey, hey, Sam. You’re never useless.”

 

“I am if I can’t shoot a gun.”

 

“Then you can do research. And that’s just an if. The surgery went great, and we can do therapy or whatever you need, we’ll get you back into top shape.”

 

Sam met Dean’s eyes, trying to smile, but Dean could see he was still pretty down about it.

 

“Sammy, you beat the _devil_. You managed to complete trials from _God._ Well, you would’ve if I hadn’t stopped you. You’ve come back from so much shit in our lives. If anyone can beat a busted up wrist it’s you, Winchester.”

 

Sam laughed at that, leaning his head on Dean’s shoulder for a moment. “You know that line loses a little considering we’re both named Winchester.”

 

“Dude, I tried.”

 

Sam’s grin was real this time as he leaned up and kissed Dean’s mouth. It sucked – so much. But Dean believed in him, and damnit if he wasn’t going to make his big brother proud.

 

The doctor entered before Sam could voice his thoughts, smiling at the two.

 

“You’re looking well, Sam.”

 

“I am. Feeling well, I mean. Eager to get out of here though.”

 

The doctor laughed, glancing down at the folder open in his hands. He flipped a few pages before looking back to Sam.

 

“Well the surgery went great, it looks like all is well with you. We’re going to keep you for a few more hours, just to make sure the drugs we put in your system wear off correctly and don’t have any adverse effects. Then I’ll send you home with a care sheet and a prescription for painkillers and see you back in a few weeks so we can take off the bandages and hopefully give you a hard cast.”

 

“When can I start using my hand again?”

 

“It’ll be a while, but we’ll know more when we see you for your follow up. I know it’s tough, you mentioned you were right handed earlier, but it’s important to keep from jarring anything while it heals. We’ll get you set up with some physical therapy as well. Do you need a note for your job or anything?”

 

“Uh, nah, the boss is pretty understanding and I already let him know what was going on. After he finished laughing at me, he said I could take some time off.”

 

The doctor nodded. “Well rest, keep that hand still, and I’ll be back in a few hours. Call the nurse if you need anything.”

 

Sam nodded, watching him walk out before groaning and flopping his head down again. Dean offered a smile and squeezed his shoulder.

 

“Let’s watch some TV, huh? Get your mind off it?” He offered.

 

Sam nodded, passing him the remote. “Lay with me?”

 

“Here? In the hospital I mean?”

 

“Everyone knows we’re lovers.”

  
Dean hesitated, glancing at the door. “Yeah, but Mom… If she decides to come by the hospital instead of going to the bunker, I—“

 

Sam’s face drooped a little but he nodded. “I get it. Find something on TV.”

 

“Sam, I—“

 

“I get it, Dean. We can’t let her find out about us.”

 

Dean’s face drooped a little. He turned his attention to finding a program they both liked, his thoughts elsewhere.

 

The discussion over telling their Mom had resulted in a huge fight. Sam had wanted to tell their mother the truth about their relationship rather than hiding it. She was their Mom, she deserved to know, he’d said. It would have freaked her out a little, but she had to understand. With the way they were raised, what they’d had to do to keep each other alive and happy – it only made sense.

 

But Dean had resisted, flat out said no. She couldn’t find out, she’d be disgusted, hurt – she wouldn’t want anything to do with them and he wouldn’t risk that. Not when they’d just gotten her back. He knew he’d shut down the discussion too quickly, getting combative instead of talking it out with Sam.

 

Looking back on it, Dean felt terrible about the choice he’d made. Not in keeping it from their Mom, he still stood by that. Rather the way he’d said no. Sam was still reeling from what the British Men of Letters had done to him. He’d explained it to Dean in bits and pieces: the physical torture, the mental torture, the hallucinogen – it had messed him up in more ways than he could even begin to discuss.

 

It wasn’t too long after that that he’d asked Dean if they could come out to their Mom. Knowing he was still tender from the torture, Dean should have been more gentle with his words. Instead he’d done with he does best: attack verbally, shut Sam down and say things that would cut him the core without a second thought. He’d called Sam selfish, said he didn’t care who he hurt with his choices and swore he’d never let Sam hurt their Mom like that. It had been a dick move and Dean knew it. Sam still donned that mask of hurt that Dean hated seeing so much whenever the discussion of their relationship and their mother came up in tandem. But he said nothing. He didn’t push it at all, and Dean knew why.

 

Even though he disagreed with Dean’s choice, he was scared. Scared of Dean once again. Scared that Dean would snap at him, hurt him again. And Dean had no idea how to right the wrong.

 

**

 

Sam was quiet on the ride back to the bunker. He stared out the window at the still grey sky and a few times Dean had thought he fell asleep.

 

When they arrived, Dean wandered around, calling for their Mom, but they were alone. So he helped Sam with a bath – as much as Sam would let him – and got him back into the bedroom, where another bag was sitting on their bed.

 

“What’s this?” Sam asked, going over to it.

 

“Uh, another present. I know you’ll laugh, but – ”

 

Sam was already pulling open the bag, his mouth curving into a smile that was trying so hard to be annoyed.

 

“Really, Dean?” He reached in and tugged out a pair of flannel pajamas. They were a deep green with small red moose patterned all over them.

 

“I remembered when we were kids and you busted your arm up, you asked me if we could get some cozy pajamas to make you feel better. I didn’t have the money then, I always felt so bad about that. And when you broke it before we were always on the road and we were both still so messed up over Dad, I didn’t even think of it. But I figured now, we’ve got the cash and, I—“

 

Sam looked over as Dean explained, his smile softening. He walked over and pulled Dean into the best hug he could manage with his arm.

 

“Thank you. For remembering,” He whispered.

 

Dean chuckled a little, clapping Sam on the back. “No problem. I’m surprised they had your size.”

 

“Help me get into them?”

 

Dean nodded and walked over. Sam sat on the bed and Dean crouched, helping Sam into the bottoms. He grinned when they fit perfectly and rose with Sam, gently pulling on the long sleeved top. He’d never been so glad that something was button up in his life. After fixing it he helped Sam get his bandaged arm into the sling and bent over the bed, fluffing up the pillows and pulling the sheet down.

 

“Uh, there. All cozy.”

 

Sam laughed. “I’m not six.”

 

“But I couldn’t take care of you like this when you were.”

 

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, his brows furrowing.

 

“Dean, you’ve _always_ taken care of me. When I _was_ six you rode me to the hospital on your damn bike. You gave up food for me, fought for me. You have always been there.”

 

A flash of pain crossed Dean’s face, a grimace quickly replaced by a cocky smirk.

 

“Only cause you were too damn helpless. Shut and lie down. I’ll make dinner.”

 

“You wanna—“ Sam stopped himself before he finished his thought. Instead he did as Dean requested, stretching out in the bed and letting Dean tug the covers up around him.

 

“Did I wanna what?” Dean asked hesitantly when he’d finished.

 

“Nothing. I wanted to ask if you wanted to lay with me a while, since we couldn’t at the hospital, but with Mom on her way, it’s a bad idea. I’m just gonna try to get some sleep.” He rolled onto his left side and bunched up the pillow, signaling the end of the conversation.

 

Dean walked to the doorway and leaned on it for a while, watching the still form of his brother. Calling their Mom probably wasn’t his best move, especially without consulting Sam. He should’ve realized Sam would need him now, not only as a brother, but also as a lover. Nothing he could do to fix it – nothing he could think of at least – but he could try. Maybe something would come to him.

 

When Sam’s breath finally evened out, signaling sleep, Dean carefully shut the door and headed toward the kitchen.

 

 


	3. At Least She's Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Day 3: scarves + christmas cookies

“How is he?” Mary asked first thing in the morning.

 

Dean rubbed sleep from his eyes, grunting and wandering over to the coffee pot. He poured some and took a sip before turning to face her, still trying to focus. “Hm?”

 

“Sam. I heard you go in and out of his room a few times last night. How is he?”

 

Dean blinked again and rubbed his eyes. “You have ears like a bat,” He muttered before taking another sip. “He’s okay. Still sleeping. Pretty down about it all.”

 

“Well it makes sense. He’s not useful like this.”

 

Dean bristled at that, scowling. “It’s a broken wrist, Mom. It’ll heal. He’ll be back to hunting in no time. And while he’s healing he can still do other things: research and stuff like that. He and I have worked around this stuff before, not the first time we’ve busted things on the job.”

 

“Explain to me again how he managed to break it anyways. You weren’t clear on the phone.”

 

Dean looked down a moment, chewing his lip. He hadn’t thought of a story to tell their mother yet. Instead he busied himself with making breakfast, tugging down pans and pulling out eggs and bacon as he spoke.

 

“Oh, you know how Sam is. Well, I guess not, but um, he’s klutzy,” He muttered, knowing the excuse sounded lame.

 

“He’s a hunter. Those two things don’t go together usually.”

 

“Yeah, not so much. Why do you think he’s had so many injuries?” He offered a laugh that fell flat as soon as he turned around. Mary wasn’t buying this story at all.

 

“How did he break his wrist, Dean?” She asked again, her expression stoic. Dean sighed.

 

“Promise not to tell him I said anything?”

 

“Why wouldn’t he want me to know?”

 

Dean chuckled weakly, turning to the stove to begin heating up the pan. “It’s uh, pretty embarrassing. Especially for you to know.”

 

“What, did he fall in the shower?” She joked.

 

“Hah, if only,” Dean muttered. He took another drink of coffee and swallowed before answering. “He spilled some um, personal lubricant. And accidentally slipped in it after some alone time.”

 

He dared a glance around when Mary remained silent, a little surprised to see her covering her mouth.

 

“Are you – laughing?”

 

Mary shook her head no, but the gentle quiver of her shoulders gave a different answer. Dean smiled then and laughed a little.

 

“It’s funny, you can laugh. All the nurses and doctors at the ER sure did. Hell, I did too. Big bad hunter taken down by Astroglide – who’d’a thought it?”

 

She laughed outright then, shaking her head. Dean joined her, guilt biting a hole in his stomach at lying to her, even a little bit.

 

“That is s kind of funny – poor Sam.”

 

“So you can see why he didn’t want you to know. I’m sure he woulda rather me told you he fell off a ladder finding a book or dusting or something. He’s pretty embarrassed about it.”

 

She nodded. “I won’t let him know that I know the truth. What’s for breakfast?”

 

“Ah, for us eggs and bacon. While that’s cooking I’m gonna run out and grab Sammy something if you don’t mind keeping an eye on it?”

 

“He doesn’t like eggs and bacon?” She asked, confusion written over her face.

 

“He does, but I figured since he’s not feeling too hot about this whole thing I’d get him something he likes. I’d make it, but we ran outta veggies a few days ago and I haven’t wanted to leave him alone for too long with that wrist, so—“

 

Mary smiled softly, her eyes crinkling in a way that mirrored Dean’s own smile. He cocked his head a little, confused.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, nothing.” She looked down, sipping her own coffee and turning the page of the newspaper she was glancing through. “You just take such good care of him.”

 

Dean shrugged, turning back to start the eggs.

 

“It’s nothin’. We take care of each other – just how Dad raised us.”

 

The silence stretched on after that. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not really, but Dean couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he kept getting. Maybe Sam was right: she deserved to know the truth. But telling her the truth was risking losing her, and neither of them wanted that. But not telling her was putting a strain on his relationship with Sam, and dammit if that didn’t feel worse most of the time.

 

**

 

Dean was surprised to hear laughter coming out of the kitchen when he returned from picking up breakfast for Sam. He stuck his head in first, smiling a little.

  
Sam and Mary were sitting at the kitchen table, both staring raptly at Sam’s laptop screen. On it was canned laughter, a grainy bar and a very early episode of _Cheers_. Mary laughed softly, meeting Sam’s grin over the breakfast table.

 

Sam glanced back, catching sight of Dean. “Hey. Did you know Mom and Dad used to watch this show all the time back when we were kids?”

 

Dean entered further, setting a styrofoam box in front of Sam.

 

“Breakfast omelet,” He explained. “Lots of veggies.” Sam smiled gratefully. Dean saw him twitch, moving forward like he was going to press a kiss to Dean’s mouth, so he moved backwards quickly, snagging the plate of his own cooking that Mary had left for him under a lid to keep warm.

 

“So, _Cheers_.”

 

“Yes, your father and I loved this. It came out just a bit before Sam was born. You’d sit and watch it with us too, Dean – you don’t remember?” Mary asked.

 

Dean set his plate down next to Sam’s and glanced at the computer screen.

 

“Vaguely. A lot of my memories – I don’t know if they’re real or if my brain just filled in the gaps, or… Dad told a story so I never know but yeah, I think I remember sitting between you two on that couch… You were so big, I’d—“ He stopped, looking down at his food, poking it with the fork.

 

“What, Dean?” Sam prodded.

 

Dean shrugged. He untwined the scarf from around his neck and set it on the table before tugging off his jacket and dropping it on the stool. Grabbing his fork, he went to sit but Sam slapped the table lightly with his good hand.

 

“Don’t you dare. You always nag me for leaving my clothes around the common spaces, so you get that stuff hung up before you eat.”

 

Dean looked over and laughed a little.

 

“Nagging wife,” He muttered, but rose with the coat and scarf.

 

Sam swung his left hand out, catching Dean in the side with his fist.

 

Dean laughed and wrapped the scarf around Sam’s throat, tugging backwards as Sam laughed, trying to stabilize himself so Dean wouldn’t pull him off the chair.

 

Mary gasped a little when Sam slipped, slamming his foot down on the floor to keep from falling.

 

“Dean, he’s going to hurt himself again,” She tried, but Dean only laughed.

 

Sam went forward against the scarf and slammed his head back into Dean’s sternum, causing him to loosen his grip on the scarf. Sam grabbed it and rose, twisting his wrist to wrap it over his hand until they were almost gripping hands. He smirked at Dean, close enough to feel his breath.

 

“I can handle my big brother pretty well,” Sam said softly to Mary, though he didn’t take his eyes off Dean.

  
Dean looked away first, a barely there shake of his head. Sam cleared his throat and stepped back, freeing his arm from the scarf and sitting back down.

 

“Did you take your painkillers?” Dean asked as he walked over to hang up the scarf and coat.

 

“Yes, Mother,” Sam teased, then laughed a little when he looked over at Mary. He sat and picked his fork up, fumbling a little with it being in the wrong hang.

 

“Just a joke,” He explained.

 

“It’s fine – you two seem to have parented one another for most of your childhood, from what I’ve read in John’s journal.”

 

Dean sat back down next to Sam and grabbed his fork.

 

“You’d be right about that. But it’s okay. We know each other better than anyone because of it, and it works for our jobs,” He said with a mouthful of food that made both Sam and Mary grimace a little.

 

“Play the show again, Mom,” Sam instructed, hoping to change the subject before they got too uncomfortable.

 

**

 

Dean knocked gently on the doorframe of Sam’s room that evening. Sam glanced up from where he’d been reading a book, slumped over the desk.

 

“What’s up?”

 

Dean walked in, shutting the door and closing the gap between them. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Sam’s – or tried to – until Sam turned his head away.

 

“Don’t.”

 

“Sam, what—‘

 

“I almost got us caught today – don’t make me risk it again, okay?”

 

Dean sighed a little and nuzzled Sam’s neck. “She’s in the library and she’s not gonna hear us kissing. I’m sorry I’m being such a stickler about this.”

 

“I get it.” Sam looked back down at his book, his finger tracing lightly over the words to find his place. “What do you need?”

 

“Wanted to ask if you wanted help getting a shower.”

 

Sam shook his head softly, marking his place in the book and shutting it. “I’m skipping it tonight but thanks. Just gonna go to bed.”

 

“It’s like six, Sam. Come out to the library with us. I got a deck of cards and some chips, we can all play some poker, have fun. And—”

 

He hurried to the door and opened it a crack, grabbing the small box he’d set outside of it. He returned and passed it to Sam.

 

“Christmas cookies?”

 

“They aren’t homemade – I wanna do homemade a little later this month, maybe with you, but they’re pretty amazing. We have a couple of boxes.”

 

Sam’s mouth turned up in a soft smile, meeting Dean’s eager expression. “Fine. Come on, interrupt my reading for poker.”

 

“You were going to bed.”

 

“Shut up,” Sam muttered, following Dean out of the room.

 


	4. Deck the Halls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Hot chocolate and Christmas lights

Sam groaned sleepily, feeling around with his left hand for Dean. It took him a second for things to come back to him; the broken arm, their Mom. When it did, he opened his eyes and sighed softly, staring at the ceiling fan.

 

A knock on his door made him jump; he was used to Dean just coming in… Or already being there. He tugged the sheet further over himself even though he was wearing the pajamas Dean had purchased him.

 

“Come in,” He called.

 

Dean pushed open the door and smiled sheepishly. “I brought coffee.”

 

“What’d you do?” Sam asked, wiggling himself into a mostly sitting position.

 

“What?”

 

“You’re bringing me coffee in bed. You’re either gonna ask me for something or you did something. Considering we have company I doubt you’ll ask me for anything that you’d normally ask for.”

 

Dean scowled a little, setting the coffee mug down on the bedside stand.

 

“Your thought processes are way too complex for a guy who just woke up,” He hesitated, seeing Sam staring at him, “I swear, it’s nothing, Sam. I brought you coffee cause I wanna take care of you.”

 

Sam scowled, taking the coffee and sipping it slowly. “Well then thank you.”

 

“We’re decorating for Christmas today,” Dean muttered softly.

 

“And there it is.”

 

“That’s not a bad thing!” Dean defended. Sam shook his head. “It’s not. I’ll stay out of your guys’ way.”

 

Dean’s brows furrowed, confusion crossing his face. “Sam, what do you mean? Why would you stay out of the way?”

 

Sam held up his arm, wincing a little. Dean jumped up and went to the desktop, finding Sam’s pills as Sam talked.

 

“Because I’m useless, Dean. I can’t help hang a damn thing – I can barely manage to drink coffee.”

 

“Come on, Sam. You promised we could have a real Christmas this year. I even waited until _closer_ to Christmas to put up decorations.”

 

“Because we didn’t have any.” Sam opened his mouth, letting Dean put the pills on his tongue. He took a sip of the coffee before continuing. “Do we have any?”

 

“I found some stuff that said Christmas down in one of the spare rooms. Come on. You don’t even have to get dressed,” Dean commented, smirking down at the patterned pajamas he’d purchased a few days prior.

 

“Don’t say a damn thing. They’re comfortable. Not like I have _you_ to keep me warm,” Sam griped and Dean’s face drooped.

 

“Sam—“

 

“Nevermind. Was mean of me to say. Lemme dress and I’ll come out and watch you guys decorate.”

 

“Need help dressing?”

 

Sam hesitated, glancing at his clothes on the chair. He shook his head though.

 

“No, I’m a big boy.”

 

Dean nodded and turned, walking out. He managed to get about six feet down the hall before he heard Sam cussing up a storm. Rushing back in, Dean had to smile. Sam was fighting with the buttons of his pajamas, muttering about being useless and weak.

 

Dean entered further and sat next to Sam, reaching out and undoing his shirt.

 

“Thank you,” Sam muttered, his cheeks bright pink.

 

“You’re not useless, Sammy.”

 

“You know, you keep saying that, then proving yourself wrong.”

 

“You had surgery two days ago. Give yourself a break.” Dean pulled Sam upwards and helped him out of his pajamas.

 

Sam glanced worriedly at the door.

 

“Aren’t you scared Mom’s gonna walk past?”

 

“And see me helping my brother who can’t use his arm into a pair of jeans? So what?”

 

“You just get so defensive about anything that could be considered gay.”

 

“I do not. I get defensive about things that could give away that I’m in a relationship with my little brother,” Dean hissed. “If I was in a relationship with anyone else I’d have no problem talking to her about it.”

 

“So like, Cas?” Sam offered, grinning a little when Dean shot him a glare.

 

“Cas is like my brother.”

 

“You let your real brother put his cock up your ass.”

 

“He’s like my brother would be if I had a normal relationship with a brother,” Dean said quickly, tugging Sam’s jeans up as forcefully as he could manage. “Stop being a dick.”

 

“I’m just saying, it’d make your life a helluva lot easier.”

 

“What? Being with Cas? A supernatural creature. Who’s like a millennia older than me and not into me?”

 

“He’s into you. You two share a _profound bond_ ,” Sam teased, and Dean punched his shoulder.

 

“Keep it up and you’ll have two broken wrists, you little shit.”

 

“Admit it, Cas is cute.”

 

“Cas isn’t my type. Sure, he might have some handsome traits, but he’s more your type.”

 

Sam bobbed his head side to side in thought. “Yeah, I’d do him.”

 

“Sam!”

 

“Hey, being honest. It’d sure be easier than pretending I’m not in love with anyone at all whenever we’re in public.”

 

Dean pulled back in surprise. And they’d been having such a fun conversation. He watched Sam walk out the bedroom door, stunned to silence. This really was hurting Sam; he had to admit he hadn’t realized. Sure, sleeping alone was tough – and he was sure it’d only get tougher – but it wasn’t _that_ bad. But for Sam, maybe it was. With a heavy sigh Dean followed Sam out, still not sure how to fix this situation for everyone.

 

**

 

“I have good news and bad news,” Mary said when Dean finally left the bedroom to join Sam and her in the library.

 

“What’s the good?”

  
“I found those boxes you’d mentioned; they were marked Christmas.”

 

“Uh-huh, and the bad?”

 

“They literally only have Christmas lights in them. And the snow has started really coming down; we may have to wait a few days to get real decorations.” She held up the lights with a weak smile.

 

Dean shrugged and took one string, plugging it in and grinning when it glowed bright in his hand.

 

“They still work. This is a start. Sammy, wanna come help?”

 

“I’ll watch,” Sam said softly, sipping his coffee at the table.

 

Dean’s smile faded a little. He watched his brother across the room until Mary stepped into his view, offering a smile.

 

“Where’s a ladder? I’ll help.”

 

Dean and Mary worked steadily to string up the lights throughout the library first, then moved on to the War room. Dean had asked Sam to follow but he said no, insisting it was easier just to stay here and he’d be in the way.

 

When Dean entered the library about half an hour later to grab another string for the War room, Sam was gone, his cup empty and the newspaper neatly folded on the table. If there was an award for sucking at caring for a person who was recovering from surgery, Dean knew he’d take top prize.

 

**

 

After the lights were put up, Dean wandered through the bunker, hoping to find Sam somewhere, _anywhere_ but back in the bedroom. Of course, that’s exactly where he was, curled up on the bed with a book.

 

“Dude, come out and be social,” Dean said from the doorway.

 

“I’m good.”

 

“Sam, you know you’re gonna heal slower if you’re not happy or some shit. I read that somewhere.”

 

“I am happy. Well, I’d be happier if you’d lemme read,” Sam said, marking his place in the book and setting in on his stomach to look over at Dean.

 

"You can't spend all your time in our room, Sam." Dean entered, shutting the door and sitting on the bed next to Sam.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because, I don't know, you're gonna get depressed or something."

 

Sam laughed a little, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone. "Depressed? Dean, no. I'm fine. Here I'm not gonna mess something up."

 

"What would you mess up?"

 

Sam's jaw twitched and he looked down, grabbing his book again. "I'm fine."

 

"No, Sam. Talk to me."

 

Sam sighed. "I'm used to being able to be affectionate with you, okay? I hate that I can’t. And I’m terrified I’m gonna slip up and Mom’s gonna notice.”

 

“Sam –“

 

“No. This was your choice, Dean. I get it, I do, but you can’t yell at me for making sure I keep you happy.”

 

“Do you have any idea what our relationship would do to Mom? It’d kill her. We’re already disappointments!”

 

Sam winced a little as Dean raised his voice, hanging his head. “You know she loves us, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, and she’d love us more if we weren’t hunters. If we grew up normal. I’m not stupid, Sam.”

 

“Dean—“

 

“No. Stop it. You wanna sulk until you get the cast off, fine.” Dean shot up and left, slamming the door hard enough to shake the photos on the walls.

 

He didn’t know why he was getting angry; Sam wasn’t lying. This had been his decision, and even though he had a point, it was understandable that Sam was hurt by it. Anger wasn’t a reasonable reaction. He was going to end up hurting Sam more by being this way, but couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was mad, he was hurt, he was – Dean didn’t even know what he was anymore.

  
Thoughts continued to attack his senses as he slumped at the kitchen table, flipping lamely through a newspaper he found.

 

“Honey?”

 

Dean looked up, offering a weak smile at his Mom.

 

“Hey, Mom. What do you want for dinner?”

 

“Anything is fine… Are you okay? Is Sam alright?”

 

“He’s fine. He’s just a little grumpy over the whole surgery thing. We argued.”

 

Mary’s shoulders slouched a little. “I’m sorry honey. I know how much it affects you.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Fighting with Sam. He’s your whole world, anyone can see that. I may not be happy about the life you were raised into, but I am certainly happy that you and him are as close as you are. A Mother couldn’t wish for more.”

 

Guilt twisted Dean’s stomach into a tight knot.

 

“Mom, I gotta tell you something about me and Sam—“

 

“What, Dear?” She asked, heading over to the counter.  
  
“We’re—A lot closer than normal brothers.”

 

“I know,” She said, not looking up from what she was doing. “John made that pretty clear in his journal.”

 

“Wait, what? He—Knew?”

 

“He was your father, Dean. Of course he knew. That you two were almost completely dependent on one another. I find it sweet.”

 

Dean scowled a little, trying to put it together.

 

“So he wrote that we were – Dependent on each other? That’s it?”

 

“Is there more?” Mary turned back around, offering a sweet smile.

 

Dean opened his mouth. He could tell her, right now. Explain how they started dating, _why_ they started dating, plead with her to understand –

 

“No, just my pain in the ass little brother. My favorite person in the world.” He said with a laugh.

 

Mary smiled wider and set two mugs of hot chocolate in front of him. “Bring one of those to your brother, this always made me feel better when I was sick – your grandmother used to make it for me.”

  
Dean nodded and picked up the mug. “I’ll be right back, thanks Mom,” He said before walking out of the kitchen, mentally kicking himself in the ass for being too scared to tell the truth.


	5. A Great Way to Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Day 5: Snowmen and Reindeer

Tense was an understatement for how things were in the Men of Letters bunker for the next few days. Even Mary noticed a change between the brothers, though she didn’t want to intrude. Sam avoided as much socialization as he could, spending most of his time in his room reading or sleeping. Dean attempted to bring him out, but when it didn’t work he spent his days in the garage, working on various cars or cleaning them. In an effort to solve the problem between her boys, Mary came up with a plan.

 

“Dean?”

  
“Hm?” Dean grunted, not looking up from the morning paper. He was sipping his coffee, still waking up.

 

“How about a movie night? It’s getting close to Christmas. When you were a child we would always take one night and watch movies together, do you remember that?”

 

“Vaguely. We’re a little old for that though, don’t you think?”

 

“You’re never too old for Christmas movies,” She argued, sitting across from him at the table. “You used to love Rudolph, though you always fell asleep during It’s a Wonderful Life.”

 

“Hm, Sam’s mentioned that second one. That’s the one with the angel Clarence, right?”

 

She nodded. “Does that sound like a good plan? It might make Sam feel better too. I know he’s been down about the broken wrist.”

 

Dean smiled a little and nodded at her attempt. If only she knew…

 

“Yeah, Mom. Sounds good. I’ll let Sam know.”

 

**

 

“This movie is old by even old’s standards,” Sam commented when Mary held up the DVD.

 

“I’m surprised I found it, I had to go to a few towns. The Men of Letters sure knew how to pick a town that has nothing.”

 

Dean laughed a little. “I know – I’m really surprised no one found this place.”

 

“Could be warded or something – I mean some magic to make people not notice it?” Sam offered and Dean nodded.

 

“Could be.”

 

Mary slipped the DVD in and sat in the chair from Sam’s desk.

 

“Mom, you can take the bed,” Sam offered.

 

“No, you and Dean take it.”

 

Dean and Sam shared a glance before Dean shrugged and flopped down next to Sam, a little hurt when Sam slid to the edge of the bed, making as wide a gap as he could between them.

 

They began the movie, a silence stretching over the three.

 

About halfway through, Dean spoke. "For an old ass movie, the reindeer are pretty good."

 

“It’s cool how they did it actually. They used stop motion like most, but they made little figurines, it was really groundbreaking for the t—“

 

“Sam. Enough geek,” Dean said, raising his hand. Sam scowled a little, looking back to the screen.

  
Mary sighed softly. “I’m gonna get us a snack.”

 

She rose and walked out, leaving the brothers alone in the tense silence once more.

 

Dean looked over at Sam then at the open door. He leaned over and began to mouth along Sam’s neck and up to his ear – Until Sam jerked away.

 

“Stop it.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Doing that.”

 

Dean heaved a sigh and moved back to his own spot. “I miss you, Sammy,” He admitted softly.

 

“Yeah, well, things aren’t gonna happen. Not now.”

 

“Why not? We could get Mom out of the bunker for a few hours and have a little fun.” He reached over and slid his hand up Sam’s thigh.

 

Sam pushed his hand away, glaring over at him.

 

“No, we can’t. One because you’d spend the whole time worrying about her coming back early and two, what good am I? I can’t use my hand.”

 

“You’ve got another hand. And if we sent her to a movie or on a case or something –“

 

“She’d want you to join. And my left is useless for sex stuff, you know that.”

 

“Well you’ve been able to jerk off just fine with it,” Dean pouted. Sam looked over at him, his expression blank.

 

“Wait, you mean you haven’t –“

 

“No, Dean. I haven’t jerked off since the accident. I haven’t exactly been in the mood.” He hesitated, his face drooping into a scowl. “You mean you have?”

 

“Well, yeah, I—“

 

“I don’t need to know.”

 

“Sam, I was thinking about you,” Dean tried unsuccessfully. He felt stupid; he hadn’t even _considered_ that Sam couldn’t get physical relief with his wrist messed up. “So that’s why you’ve been so pissy lately.”

 

Sam’s head whipped around fast enough that his hair flew a little. “Excuse me? You’re really gonna blame me being in a bad mood on not coming? Are you that fucking _shallow?_ Dean, I’m ‘pissy’ for a lot of fucking reasons. Lack of sex isn’t one of them. I’m not _you_.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean snapped, his defenses coming up.

 

“Sometimes I need a little more than a quick fuck! I miss cuddling, I miss going on dates, I miss fucking _affection_ and I can’t get a single second of it because you think what we do is wrong and I’m just a freak for wanting it!”

 

Dean winced visibly. “Sam, you’re not a freak. I—“

 

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam whispered, turning away from him. His tone was broken; Dean could tell he was close to tears.   
  
“Sam, please.”

 

“Shut up, or I will re-break my wrist on your face, so help me God.”

 

“Don’t you mean so help me Chuck?” Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood. The watery glare he got from Sam shut him up quickly though and he looked at his lap.

 

“I—“

 

“Don’t. Test. Me,” Sam said through clenched teeth.

 

Dean’s jaw closed fast enough that the click of his teeth was audible. The silence stretched on, tense and thick. Sam was glaring at his bandaged arm, gently moving the fingers of his right hand.

 

“Sam, listen, I—“

 

“Dean. Just leave me alone.”

 

“No! You act like this isn’t hard on me too, Jesus. I gave up a whole helluva lot to be in a relationship with you and you’re acting like I’m the bad guy. Don’t you dare.”

 

Sam’s head turned slowly, meeting Dean’s gaze.

 

“You gave up a lot? You—“ He stopped, wetting his lips. “I don’t care what you do, Dean. Go fuck the first person you see in Lebanon. Fuck ‘em all. I don’t care anymore. I’m sick of this shit.”

 

“You’re sick of it? I’ve been dealing with you mope around like some fucking teenager for a week now. And I’ve done nothing but be good to you!”

 

“Good to me? Good to me would be treating me like the lover I’m supposed to be.”

 

“You selfish prick. Can you imagine what finding out about us would do to Mom?”

 

“Who fucking cares! You said there’s _nothing_ you’d put in front of me.”

 

“Well I must have lied!”

 

Hot tears stung Sam’s eyes at Dean’s admission. Before he really thought things through he drew his injured arm back, turning his body and swinging. The pain ripped through him as his loose fist impacted with Dean’s nose. There was a crunching feeling and then burning, stinging agony surrounding his wrist. It shook loose the tears he’d been holding back and he went backwards, holding his throbbing, clawed hand.

 

Dean fell backwards, shouting and holding his face as his nose began to gush red.

 

“You idiot!” Dean screamed, his voice nasally.

 

“Get the fuck out!” Sam spat through sobs, standing and turning his back to Dean. He was beginning to feel a little lightheaded from the pain, but the last thing he wanted to do was give Dean the satisfaction of admitting that was a _really_ dumb move.

 

“Sam, fuck, you busted my nose,” Dean wheezed. Sam whipped around.

 

“Good. I wish I’d broken your jaw,” He snarled. The world spun when he moved, and he felt himself sway a little.

 

“Now get the hell out of my room,” He whispered, trying to steady himself. The pain was intense – worse than he’d ever felt before.

 

He saw Mary enter out of the corner of his eye and heard her gasp.

 

“What happened?” She asked just as Sam collapsed. The last thing he saw before the world went black was the plate of snowmen shaped candies slip out of her grip and shatter on the floor.


	6. Can This Be Fixed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Day 6: decorating and sweaters

Mary watched Dean from the doorway. He was sitting next to Sam’s bed, his face in his hands. The hospital room was too sterile for her liking, but the surgeon had insisted Sam stay at least overnight.

 

He’d gotten lucky. The punch had jarred his healing bones but the pins were still in place. They had needed to open him up to make sure the sharp bone ends hadn’t damaged anything new, and he was still out from the surgery.

 

Dean had argued with the nurses about setting his nose of course – he’d wanted to be with Sam. It took two male nurses to restrain him long enough to fix the break and bandage him, though the two bruises running along the bottom of his eyes was a clear giveaway of what had happened.

 

The trip to the hospital was silent, and it made Mary uneasy. Dean was sniffling a little of course, and Mary was sure he’d play it off as the blood in his nose, but she knew her son – even if she missed him growing up – there was no hiding tears from one’s mother. Something had happened in that room that jarred the bond her boys shared so deeply, and she was determined to find out what.

 

“Doctor says he’ll probably sleep through the night,” Mary said softly. Dean didn’t move.

 

“You should get some rest – I can watch over him.” She entered the room and set her hand on his shoulder. It was shaking, ever so slightly.

 

“I’m okay,” He muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

 

“Dean,”

 

“I’m okay, Mom. I’d rather stay up. For when he wakes up.”

 

She sighed and pulled up the other chair, sitting next to him. “Talk to me.”

 

“About what?”

 

“What happened?”

  
Dean laughed scornfully and let his hands drop from his face. Mary winced when he looked over at her. The bruises were darker now, almost black, and his nose was swollen under the bandages. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, tear tracks streaking down his freckled cheeks.

 

“I fucked up. We were arguing and I said the one thing I knew would cut him to the bone. It’s what I always do. Aim straight for the heart and don’t hold back. I deserved this, he didn’t.”

 

“What were you arguing over? What’s been going on between you two?”

 

“Nothin’.”

 

“You can’t lie to me, Dean. I’ve sensed it for a week, you two have been tense, and it seems to get worse when I’m nearby. Is it me? Do you not want me in the bunker?”

 

“No, Mom. It’s not you. It’s just how we are.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

Dean clenched his teeth hard enough that it brought fresh tears to his eyes. “How would you know?” He spat. He sighed then and rubbed his temples. “See? Straight to the damn heart. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, I deserved that. I have left you boys hanging quite a few times now. And it’s not fair. But I’ve read your father’s journal backwards and forwards, and I’ve seen how you two act together most of the time. You’re inseparable. You’re… Definitely more than brothers.”

 

Dean’s head snapped toward her again, his eyes widening. He laughed then and shook his head. “Excuse me?”

 

“I’m not stupid, Dean. I may not fit into this world but one thing hasn’t changed in thirty years, and that’s how people look when they’re in love. Plus, I’ve been around. I’ve been hunting, talking to other hunters. I’ve heard the stories. About the Winchester boys, how they’re too close to be brothers. Some hunters think Sam’s adopted, others say you just don’t care about the blood. The story of how you two managed to beat the devil and everything else by loving each other more than anything.”

 

“Mom, I hate to sound mean but—You’re nuts,” Dean said, laughing again. A panic rose in his throat as he said the words. She couldn’t know. Not this secret. God, not this secret.

 

“The doctor called you husbands.”

 

“Because sometimes it’s easier to say that. He assumed we were when we first came in and we didn’t bother correcting him. On cases it works to our advantage sometimes. If I had a sister we’d do the same thing – it just works. I’m not fucking my brother, Mom. That’s sick.”

 

Mary sighed a little, her eyes searching over his face. Dean remained stoic. He finally offered a weak smile. “Come on, Mom. You can’t really think we—“

 

“I just think you two are more tangled up in each other than you’d like the world to believe. I don’t know how tangled – I don’t think I want to know; you are my sons after all. But this – whatever is making you two hurt so bad – it needs to stop.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yes. If the stories are even a little true, that you two did so much because of the feelings you share… Things won’t work out too well if you’re fighting.”

 

Dean hung his head for a moment before looking back at Sam’s sleeping form. Mary rose and grabbed his shoulder.

 

“I’m going to get you some ice for your nose – that bruise is looking worse than before.”

  
With that she walked out, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

 

He could have told the truth and he knew it. But telling the truth meant letting someone into that deep, dark secret he and Sam shared. A few people knew, sure: Charlie knew before her death and Cas knew – there was no way to keep it from Cas and Crowley anyways, but that was different. A family member knowing – that couldn’t happen.

 

Every time he even considered letting Mary know his Dad’s voice screamed in his head, _‘Protect your brother. Don’t hurt family.’_ This would hurt her. It didn’t matter if she _thought_ she was okay with it; no mother could be okay with her sons having sex. Dad would have killed him, Bobby too. Why would their Mom be any different?

  
Sam just didn’t understand. He always butted heads with Dad and Bobby never seemed to dislike anything he did. He didn’t get that with Dean – Dean had to be the perfect brother. The protector, the warrior. Something like this would have ruined those two, and it would ruin their mother.

 

Dean looked at Sam’s sleeping face, relaxed and peaceful, and felt fresh tears burning his sore nose. Everything they’d worked so hard for was coming to a crashing halt and he honestly had no idea how to make it better.

 

**

 

“I just got him to sleep. He tried to stay awake for you,” Mary said softly when Sam reached out and touched Dean’s hand. He was snoring lightly, his head on the edge of Sam’s bed.

 

Sam looked up, meeting Mary’s gaze from where she sat, curled up in the chair next to Dean’s. Their father’s journal was open in her lap.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“For what, Sam?”

 

“This. Us fighting, sitting in a hospital… Pretty crappy holiday season.”

 

“Crappy was the time I hunted a werewolf on Christmas Eve with my Dad. I was twelve and I have to say I have never hated him more.”

 

Sam laughed a little and Mary smiled. “Tell me about some Christmases you had. Growing up.”

 

Sam’s smile faded. “No, you – You don’t wanna hear that.”

 

“I do, Sam. I really do. No matter how bad or sad. John talked a little about it in his journal – but I wanna hear from my boys. I missed so much, at least give me that? Your best Christmas with them. Or even just Dean.”

 

Sam nodded, his lips twitching in a shadow of a smile. “Well, there’s been a few.”

 

“Tell me the best,” She sat up and closed the journal, leaning forward to listen to him completely.

  
Sam laughed a little, feeling on the spot. He looked down at Dean’s sleeping form and reached out, lightly brushing his hand over the back of his head. Dean relaxed a little more at the touch, sighing contentedly.

 

“The first one that comes to mind was when I was eight. Um, Dad was off on a hunt and he promised he’d come back for Christmas. He didn’t –“ Sam sat up a little further. “But it was okay, because Dean was there. See that was the night I found out about hunting. Kind of. I read his journal, he left it for Dean or something.”

  
“You and Dean were alone? Completely?”

  
“Yeah, Dean was almost thirteen and I was good on my own so… But I remember me and Dean fought pretty bad, over you. He left me alone to go and relax or get money or something, I read the journal and… I was pretty broken up about it. We talked when he got back. I fell asleep and when I woke up,” He paused and smiled a little, touching Dean’s neck lightly.

 

“There was a tree, it was decorated so terribly – I knew right away Dean had done it. He swore up and down that Dad came by and couldn’t wake me, but I knew the truth. He tried so hard to make it a nice Christmas for me… It was one of the best.”

 

Sam looked up when he finished speaking, surprised to find Mary with tears in her eyes.

 

“Mom, don’t cry.”

 

“I’m sorry, Sam, I just… I hate the way you two were raised.”

 

“Dad did what he had to do.”

 

“I know. And I messed up – keeping it from him. Things would have been different – better – if I’d been honest.”

 

“Not every holiday was bad. See, one Christmas, after Dad died, Dean really wanted to celebrate. I’ve never been a big fan of holidays so I was kind of a jerk about it. I felt bad though, cause –“

 

“Because what?”

 

Sam looked down again. “Because it was Dean’s last Christmas. Before his deal was up. For me.”

 

“His deal?”

 

Sam’s head shot up, a moment of panic closing his throat. “Dean didn’t tell you.”

 

She shook her head slowly. “No, he – He told me he was going to explain things – about you boys, but… When we had to find you and then take care of you, and then I left… He never got a chance. He made a deal?”

 

“Yeah, he um… I died.”

 

“You _died_?”

 

Sam nodded slowly. The nonexistent scar on his back twinged – a reminder of the pain, the fear, the darkness… And of Dean. The hug, the sweet kiss they shared – the gentle way Dean put him to bed, made love to him like it was the last time he could – Sam sniffled a little at the sudden rush of memories, shaking his head to clear it.

 

“Yeah, I was stabbed in the back, Azazel – the demon that killed you, he put me in some sort of twisted game. Dean, he—He couldn’t handle it, and he made a deal with a crossroad demon. My life for his soul. He got one year. He tried to hide it from me, but—“ Sam looked down at Dean’s sleeping form, a tear rolling down his cheek.

 

“He went to Hell for me. Just like Dad did f—for him.” He shook his head. “He never should have done it. I wish he hadn’t.”

 

“He loves you, Sam.”

 

“But all of this – Everything that’s happened. It could have been prevented. It all could have been stopped if he’d just let me go.”

 

Mary rose then and circled around the empty side of the bed. She wrapped her arms tightly around Sam, kissing the top of his head. Sam curled his good arm around her, tears flowing despite his attempts to stop them.

 

“He’ll never let you go, Sam, surely you know that. It’s obvious. His love for you is so deep it’s—“

 

“It’s gonna get him killed. It already has, more than once,” Sam said, his words muffled against her breast as he cried.

 

“M—More than once?”

 

Sam laughed a little, pulling away and wiping his cheeks. “Us Winchesters. You can’t keep us down.”

 

“How many times?” Mary asked hesitantly, her expression making it clear she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

 

“Well, if you count the times we willingly died – to become spirits for different reasons um… I’ve died –“ He hesitated, counting in his head. “Six times. Plus three pretty close calls. Dean’s died um, a hundred and nine times plus a trip to Purgatory that I think doesn’t count, and one really close call last year – He almost died trying to bargain for my soul again.”

 

“A _hundred_?”

 

“Yeah, a trickster that was an archangel in hiding – it’s a very long story,” He said, laughing a little. “We’ll tell you it one day. Well, I will, because Dean doesn’t actually remember it.”

 

Mary walked slowly back around the bed and slumped into the chair, her expression shocked.

 

“And John?”

 

“Just once, but he did get out of Hell, to help me and Dean kill Azazel. So we saw him, one last time. We don’t know where he is now.”

  
“Heaven. With me, I – I hope.”

 

Sam smiled weakly. “I hope so. He deserves it.” He shook his head then. “Uh, anyway, it was Dean’s last Christmas so I wanted to surprise him. I got this ugly ass Charlie Brown tree and decorated it with car air fresheners. Decorated the hotel room with lights and everything – it was terrible,” Sam paused to laugh a little. “And I spiked his eggnog – I thought he was gonna die of alcohol poisoning. Too stubborn to stop drinking it.”

 

Sam and Mary shared a laugh then but Sam’s died off quicker. He remembered that night all too clearly. The distance, the fear. Dean had gotten drunk – too drunk probably. But they’d made love, and Dean – in his drunken state – had whispered words Sam never thought he’d hear leave Dean’s lips. That he loved him. Of course, Dean didn’t remember the next morning, but it was still there. It was still shared and it meant everything to Sam. Everything was okay, as long as Dean loved him.

 

“So that was your best Christmas? Time alone with Dean?” Mary asked when the silence had become thick.

 

“Well, there was one with Dad. Mostly because I was so mad at him that I couldn’t _stay_ mad. He uh, I was young, um, seven? Maybe even six. He didn’t have money to get us much in the way of gifts and we were in the middle of Colorado in a cabin. There was so much snow, it was terrible. He managed to get us these hideous Christmas sweaters. I remember Dean’s more clearly, it was bright red knit with these ugly, deformed Rudolph faces all over it. I know mine had some funky snowmen or something but Dean gave me his because we wanted to play outside but it was so cold.” Sam smiled fondly at the memory. The purity of it, their innocence. Even back then he loved his brother as so much more…

 

“Sam, may I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course, Mom.”

 

“You and Dean are much closer than regular brothers should be. Is there something more to that?”

 

Sam hesitated, cocking his head a little. “What do you mean?”

 

“Oh come on, don’t make me come out and say it.”

 

“Say _what_ , Mom?” Sam could feel his heart pounding in his ears, panic rising in his throat. She couldn’t know. Dean would hate him forever if he let it slip. He could still fix what was wrong with them but not if this got out.

 

“That you’re more than brothers?”

 

Sam’s mouth opened and closed a few times, shock hitting him. How did she know? Did she know? Was she grasping?

 

“W—Why would you think that, Mom? We’re just brothers. Hell, we’re blood. That’s illegal.”

 

“Son, hunters do a lot of illegal things. I’ve seen the way you look at each other, it’s… Well it reminds me of John and I. You can tell me, Sam.”

 

Panic and fear boiled in Sam’s stomach, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. What was he going to do? Could he lie? _Should_ he lie? This was their mother. But… This was their _mother_. He glanced down at Dean’s sleeping form, wishing desperately that he was awake to cover for Sam – to fix it.

 

“No,” He finally whispered, closing his eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth again. “We’re just brothers.”


	7. An Unlikely Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Day 7: candy and stockings

“How are three of us going to go through this much sugar, Mom?”

 

“Shush and get it into the kitchen while I help your brother.”

 

“Mom, I’m fine. I have a busted wrist; I can still walk.”

 

Mary gave Sam a warning glare as he tried to pry his good arm out of her grip.

 

“And you could slip and fall and bust your other wrist,” She explained, tightening her grip on his arm and tugging him toward the kitchen.

  
Dean trailed behind, his arms loaded full of bags.

 

“Mom, my bedroom is the other way,” Sam tried weakly.

 

“I’m aware of where the bedrooms are.” She pushed him toward one of the stools at the kitchen island before turning and taking the bags out of Dean’s arms.

 

“Both of you go and change into clothes you don’t mind getting dirty and then get back out here.”

 

Sam and Dean shared a confused look.

 

“Why?” They asked in unison.

 

Mary sighed and began to pull sugar and corn syrup out of the grocery bags.

 

“When I was a child my mother and I had a tradition. I continued it and planned to pass it onto you boys once you were old enough. Every Christmas, no matter where we were, we would always make this delicious rock candy. It can be used as gifts if you’re short on money like we often were, or even just as a treat. Once we even used it as a lure for a God that liked sweets as a sacrifice. I’d like to teach you boys now.”

 

Sam and Dean looked at each other again before Dean stepped forward, setting his hand on Mary’s shoulder. “Alright Mom. That sounds fun. We’ll go change and be back in a few minutes.”

 

Sam followed Dean out, stumbling a little and almost running into his brother’s back when Dean entered his room.

 

“Uh – Dean?”

 

Dean turned around and reached for Sam, beginning to undo the buttons on his coat. Sam grimaced and shoved Dean’s hands off with his good hand.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Helping you change,” Dean said with a surprising amount of patience.

 

Sam scowled, searching Dean’s face. It’d been two days since their fight and they hadn’t said more than ten words to each other until this moment. Dean’s eyes were still an ugly black, the bandage off his nose at this point, though it was still slightly swollen.

 

Sam had made it clear when he woke up that he didn’t want to forgive Dean for what he said, and Dean hadn’t pushed. But now this?

 

“Get out. I can change on my own.”

 

“Sam, come on. You need help.”

 

Sam pushed past Dean and stood in front of his mirror, working the buttons loose on his shirt slowly. He grimaced, using the fingers of his right hand despite the doctor’s orders not to.

 

“Sam. Stop acting like this.”

 

Sam met Dean’s eyes in the mirror. “Acting like what? Like my brother was a complete dick to me a few days ago? Or like my boyfriend said the cruelest thing he could think of?” He hissed.

 

“I’m still your brother.”

 

“And that doesn’t make us friends.” He turned on Dean then, closing the gap between them. “Lots of brothers don’t even speak to each other. If Mom wasn’t here I’d already be gone.”

 

“You don’t mean that,” Dean said softly, wincing a little at Sam’s words.

 

“Oh I don’t? You wait until after the holidays. I’ll be gone before you can say goodbye.”

 

“I’ll just hunt you down,” Dean threatened.

 

Sam huffed a laugh. “Why bother? You obviously don’t give two shits about me. I’ll take off and you can go follow Mom or Cas or Crowley or whoever the hell else you decide to put in front of me. Hell, go back to Purgatory and find Benny again.”

 

“You’re being selfish, Sam. I’m allowed to have friends.”

 

“I never said you weren’t! You’re the one who thinks what we are is so shameful that you have to hide it from our family. Get out, Dean. I will tolerate this – family situation – for the holidays. After the New Year, I’m out of here. For good.”

 

“What, gonna go back to school? All your friends are dead, or think you’re dead. You’ve got _nothing_ but me. You abandoned Amelia, you ended up getting most of your girlfriends killed. Who do you have besides me, huh?”

 

The words hit Sam hard and he shook his head, his eyes filling with angry tears.

 

“You know just how to make it hurt, don’t you?”

 

“You need to hear the truth.”

 

Sam wet his lips and took a shaky breath. “You’re right. I have no one. I’ve got nothing besides you and Mom and this bunker. But I’ll find my way. I did when I left for Stanford, and I will now.”

 

“You won’t leave,” Dean dared.

 

Sam shrugged softly, stepping back from Dean. “Guess we’ll find out. Leave me alone, Dean.”

 

“Sam, come on. You need help.”

 

“I can manage. Go, before I get pissed and say something I don’t mean.”

 

Dean sighed and turned, walking out and slamming the door.

 

**

 

“Where’s Sam?” Mary asked when Dean entered the kitchen alone a few minutes later.

 

“Probably still changing. Wouldn’t let me help so, it’s taking a while.”

 

Mary sighed softly. “Separate this bag of sugar into separate bowls, two cups of sugar each, six bowls please,” She said before heading off down the hall.

 

**

 

“Mary?”

 

Mary smiled a little, standing from her crouched position in front of the bowl she’d been using to call Cas.

 

“I didn’t know if this would work.”

 

“Of course. I’m still an angel – though a prayer works just as well, and is a little less painful for me. What do you need, Mary? Are Dean and Sam alright?”

 

“That’s why I called you. You’ve known my boys for long time now, right?”

 

“I suppose it is a long time for you humans, though it’s an eyeblink for me. I met Dean when I pulled his soul from Hell in the year 2008 on Earth, and have been with the Winchesters for the most part since then. Of course there have been periods of time that we were separated for one reason or another, but—“

 

“I got it, Cas, thank you.” Mary laughed a little, raising her hand. “So you probably know more about the boys than I ever will.”

 

“Pertaining to what?”

 

“Their relationship.”

 

“Well, they’re brothers,” Cas said, his eyes narrowing a little.

 

Mary smiled and sat on the desk. “I know they’re brothers, Cas, I gave birth to them. But they’re more than that, aren’t they?”

 

Cas hesitated, his head cocking to the right just a little. “Well, they are the perfect vessels for Michael and Lucifer, they were meant to bring about the Apocalypse.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

“Yes, that’s why I brought Dean back originally – so he could consent to being possessed by the Archangel Michael and fight Lucifer, who would be possessing Sam, for the final battle.”

 

“O—Okay. I’m curious to hear more about that later, but right now I’m talking about the boys in a romantic sense.”

 

“I’m not sure I understand, I apologize, Mary.”

 

She heaved a sigh, looking at the floor as she attempted to phrase her question in a way he couldn’t misunderstand. Finally she looked up. “Answer me with a yes or no answer, nothing more. Are Sam and Dean having sex?”

 

“No. I mean, not at this moment, in fact they seem rather tense, they are on different sides of the bunker alone,” Cas said, then hesitated. “My apologies – that was more than yes or no. Um, no.”

 

Mary laughed, “Okay, have they ever had sex with each other?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Despite her suspicion, hearing Cas say it, so easily, like it was normal, made Mary’s stomach twist. “Ye – Yes? Willingly? They weren’t possessed or anything?”

 

Cas shook his head. “Not that I’m aware. I tend to purposely look away when they begin to have intercourse, I’ve learned that’s something humans prefer to keep private, but I don’t believe they’re possessed during it.”

 

“Have they been – um – in a relationship – long?”

 

“Since I’ve known them. Of course, they’ve had fights and they both tend to copulate with random females at times, but they always go back to each other. Actually, their unique relationship is quite interesting to study.”

 

“Oh, um... Are they happy? Together?”

 

Cas shrugged. “I believe so. They seem to be at least – I know they are soulmates – they had to be to be Michael and Lucifer’s vessels. And they do seem to complete one another in a way that I haven’t seen in many other human couples.”

 

“So, if they were fighting and I – Wanted to get them back together – Would you help?” Mary asked tentatively.

 

“How would you like me to help?” Cas responded, his eyes narrowed again.

 

Mary smiled softly. “I have a few ideas. Come closer.”

 

**

 

“You know how hard it is to stir with one hand?” Sam said, chuckling a little as he dragged the spoon through the thick, half melted sugar and corn syrup concoction in the pan.

 

“Have Dean help,” Mary said, carefully setting out little bottles of flavoring.

 

Dean stepped up to Sam and smiled weakly. “I can take over for a bit if you want?”

 

“Nah, you’re pouring sugar,” Sam muttered, lowering his gaze to the pan; it was easier than looking at Dean.

 

“He’s got enough sugar poured. Let him stir for a bit. Sharing is important, boys,” Mary joked, walking up and pecking Sam’s cheek. “Of course we have four pans on the stove – surely you boys can share without biting each other’s heads off.”

 

“Yeah, Mom, we can,” Dean assured her, stepping close to Sam and grabbing a second spoon to stir a different pan.

 

She smiled softly and stepped out of the room.

 

Dean sighed softly, the silence suddenly stifling as he and Sam stood side by side.

  
“So, um – if we’re gonna fake being brothers—“

 

“You can’t fake that, Dean. We’re blood.”

 

“But you hate me now.”

 

“I never said that. I said you hurt me. There’s a difference.”

 

Dean sighed, looking over at his brother. “Do you want me to say I’m sorry? Fine, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. I was pissed and it was wrong of me to say.”

 

“Not if it was the truth,” Sam said softly.

 

“Look, I said it to hurt you, Sam, and to end the conversation. You know you’re the most important thing in my life.”

 

“No, I’m the only person that’s stayed. Dad died, Mom died, and now she’s back, so you can devote yourself to someone else. I get it. You’ve always been devoted to our parents, even when they hurt us – Dad hurt us.”

 

“Really? You’re gonna drag _that_ up again?”

 

“You chose him over me when the Stanford argument came up. And you chose his wishes over mine when you dragged me out of Stanford, hell – half our arguments started over _his_ decisions. And now it’s happening all over again with Mom.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Sam shook his head, chewing his bottom lip in frustration. Finally, he sighed and looked over at Dean. “She asked me, you know. If we were fucking.”

 

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment. “What did you tell her?” He whispered, his voice barely audible.

  
Sam snorted. “I could’ve told her everything. While you were asleep. I could’ve confessed it all, let her make her choice instead of hiding it from her like she was some lamb… But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because _you_ have drilled it into my brain how much she’d hate us. But she didn’t sound mad. She didn’t even seem weirded out. She just… Wanted to know. I’m thinking you might not know Mom as well as you think you do.”

  
“Oh and you do?”

 

“No, but I know people. And generally people that think something is gross or weird, don’t ask as casually as she did. That’s all I’m saying.”

 

“So what, you wanna tell her we’re dating?”

 

Sam’s brows furrowed. “I’m not going to lie to our mother. We’re not dating anymore. We’re not lovers. We’re nothing but brothers now – you made sure of that and so did I. If you want to tell her we used to date, we used to love each other and would put each other first come Hell or high water, that’s up to you – I’m done fighting it.”

 

“I never said I wanted to break up,” Dean said.

 

“No. I made that decision because you can’t. Just like I made the decision to leave, because you won’t.”

 

“Sam, don’t bring that up again.”

 

“Why not? Because it scares you? That you’ll be without me again? You can find someone else, I’m sure. And I’m sure you’ll get mad and shout and scream cruel things at me like you did the night I left for Stanford. But that’s fine. I’m done getting pissed at you over this, because it’s just how you are.”

 

“I’d rather you get mad,” Dean admitted, looking down at the pan. “This quiet, calm, shrink talk is getting under my skin.”

 

“Sorry. I’ll just stay quiet,” Sam offered. Dean heaved a sigh, tossing him an annoyed glance.

 

Mary entered a few moments later, a little disappointed that the brothers were just as silent as when she left them.

 

“Have either of you boys ever had a stocking?”

 

Sam turned around, giving her an amused expression. “You mean like a Christmas Stocking? Over the fireplace type thing?”

 

She nodded and held up three stockings in one hand, a bucket of glitter glue and other decorating supplies in the other.

 

“I didn’t think you had, so… Want to?”

 

Dean laughed a little. “Mom, what are you doing?”

 

Mary’s smile faded a little. She lowered the bucket to the table and set the stockings over the top of it.

 

“I missed you boys growing up. And I think you both missed it too. Hunting it – It ruins a lot of what you’re supposed to experience as a child. Even with my parents, who tried to raise me normal and a Hunter – it makes things difficult. I promised I’d never do that with my sons and you ended up getting it anyways. I guess I’m just… Trying to cram a lot of what we missed into this holiday, you know? We never know if we’re all gonna get another one.”

 

Sam looked over at Dean a moment before stepping forward, setting his hand on Mary’s shoulder a moment. He reached out and plucked up the light blue stocking, running his thumb over the rough felt.

 

“I think it’s a great idea, Mom,” He finally said. He picked up the pink stocking and held it out to Dean, a slow smile curving the corners of his mouth. “Pink for you, Dee?” He teased, earning a glare that was filled with humor from his big brother.


	8. Gonna Fix Your Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Day 8 - gift exchanging and eggnog

Dean laughed so hard the eggnog nearly came out of his nose. He threw down the cards in his hand, shaking his head and wiping the tears from his eyes. As he thought about his choice, Sam rose, tossing a few more logs on the fire in the fireplace. He glanced up, his eyes landing on the stockings that they’d made a few days before.

 

Pink was Mary’s, decorated with delicate silver swirls and small snowflake cutouts. Light blue was Sam’s, blocky letters and a few splotches of color where Dean had decided to get creative. Hunter green was Dean’s, smooth cursive and covered in splashes of paint; it had received the brunt of the damage when Dean and Sam had decided it was more fun to attack each other with the shining paint than their stockings.

 

Mary had made another stocking for Cas, despite his clear confusion over the tradition. His was a soft silver, his name in smooth gold. Cas had almost teared up when he saw it, commenting that the color was very similar to his favorite colors in heaven.

 

Sam pulled his attention away from the homemade stockings and watched the table a moment. Cas, Mary, and Dean were sitting around, laughing softly. Dean had picked up a copy of Cards Against Humanity the last time he’d gone on a supply run. Sure, it wasn’t the most appropriate game to play with one’s mother and an Angel of the Lord, but they were all enjoying it. Even Cas picked it up quite quickly, and Mary was only confused by a few of the cards, often using her phone’s Google to search terms she didn’t understand – after Sam had taught her to use her phone’s Google, of course.

 

Things were still tense between the brothers. They hadn’t made up – not in the traditional sense. Still sleeping in separate rooms and not even attempting to rekindle things, it was expected to be a little difficult. If Sam was honest; he missed Dean. He missed cuddling with him and his warmth in bed. He even missed Dean’s god awful snoring.

 

He didn’t speak any more about leaving – he wasn’t sure he was going to leave now. Things were tense, but they were getting back to brothers. And that was a start. It wasn’t what he wanted. No, what he wanted was for them to be lovers, out and proud, happy with one another. It wasn’t going to happen, of course. Dean would never let go of that fear of disappointing a parent long enough to consider that she may not be disappointed, and Sam couldn’t live with that. But becoming brothers again, that was something.

 

Sam heaved a soft sigh and walked back to the table, taking his spot across from Cas and between Dean and Mary. He took a sip of his own eggnog before speaking,

 

“Make a decision?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s going to be ‘Lumberjack fantasies.”

 

Mary laughed and raised her hand, snagging the card as Dean and Sam both gaped.

 

“I never would have believed it – I think she just out dirty minded us,” Dean said, looking over at Sam, who shook his head.

 

“I don’t even want to know how you came up with that one, Mom.”

 

Mary shrugged, smirking. “I was a teenager once.”

 

“Back in the sixties,” Sam corrected.

 

“And you weren’t around back then – you have no idea the type of man I was interested in.”

 

“Oh – okay, one, gross,” Dean began, “And two, we were back there, a few times for me, once for Sammy. We know _exactly_ the type of man you were into, and our Dad sure as hell wasn’t a lumberjack.”

 

She laughed and nodded, “You caught me there. I always had a soft spot for soldiers, even though my dad disliked them. Didn’t trust them.”

 

“Hey, Dad being a soldier saved our asses a few times. You chose good – all things considered,” Dean said softly.

 

Mary smiled weakly and reached over, squeezing his hand.

 

“Okay, my turn.” Sam said and took the next card to read to the group. He laughed a little when he saw it. “Dear God. Um, okay, ‘Blank: Kid Tested, Mother Approved’.” He flushed a little and rose.

 

“While you drop cards I’ll refill eggnog?” He offered, snagging his empty glass. Dean pushed his forward and went back to looking at his cards, his brows furrowed in thought.

 

When Sam returned, he set down the cups and took his own seat, picking up the cards.

 

“Okay, we’ve got um, puppies, the Hillside Strangler, and i—“ Sam froze, shooting a glare at Dean, who looked honestly confused.

 

“What?”

 

“Incest,” Sam hissed through his teeth.

 

Dean’s eyes bulged a little and he glanced at their Mother and Cas.

 

Sam’s mouth curved into a thin line. “Winner is The Hillside Strangler,” He muttered, trying to pass the black card toward Mary. She put her hands up.

 

“I put in the incest card, Sam.”

 

Both brothers stared at her, wearing identical shocked expressions. She laughed a little and slid the black card toward Dean.

 

“Don’t look so surprised – it made sense within the context, didn’t it?”

 

Dean stuttered out an inaudible response and looked down at his hands. Cas drew the next card, sharing a private smile with Mary before reading it aloud.

 

**

 

“So when do we wanna do gift exchanging?” Dean asked later as they relaxed in Sam’s room, watching Christmas movies.

 

“On Christmas, I believed was the tradition?” Cas said.

 

“Yeah, but we’re gonna be really busy – this is the first real Christmas that Sam and I have done, especially for more than just me and him.”

 

“Aside from myself and your mother, who’s coming?”

 

“Well, I know Sam invited those twins we met up in Canada—“

 

“Oh the Banes children, that makes me really happy. They were sweet kids,” Mary agreed.

 

“Max responded, said they’d definitely try to make it down. They wanted to stop in and visit their Grandmother, but other than that they were free,” Sam said. “I’m not gonna lie, I thought they were a couple the first time I met them.”

 

Dean laughed a little and nodded, “Same.”

 

“They are,” Mary said simply. Both brothers turned and looked at her, waiting for the laughter.

  
“They’re brother and sister,” Dean said slowly.

 

“And I thought Max was gay,” Sam added.

  
“They are brother and sister, and Max is bisexual,” Mary explained simply, sipping her tea.

 

“And everyone’s just cool with them being lovers?” Dean asked. Mary shrugged.

 

“We’re hunters. Society’s moral ethics don’t really apply to us, do they? Why should something like that? I don’t see a problem with it, and neither do other hunters.”

 

Sam looked over, meeting Dean’s gaze across the room. His jaw clenched, tongue darting out seconds after to wet his lips. Dean glanced at his lap, unsure of what to say.

  
“So, anyway,” Mary broke the silence, “Perhaps we should all exchange gifts on the twenty third. That way we can spend the twenty fourth and fifth for cooking and dinner.”

 

“I like that idea,” Sam agreed.

 

Dean nodded slowly. “I’m thinking of inviting Crowley and Rowena,” He admitted, glancing around the room to gauge the reactions.

 

Cas scowled but Sam shrugged. “They’ve helped us out a lot lately. I don’t see why it could be bad.”

 

“Aside from the fact that they’re a demon and a Pagan,” Cas said and Mary chuckled.

 

“We have two witches, an angel and three hunters already coming, Castiel – I don’t know that another few oddballs will make much of a difference.”

 

“I say we invite ‘em. I sent a text to Eileen a few days ago, and I know we let Jody and Donna know they, and the kids, were all invited,” Sam said.

  
“Claire is coming?” Cas asked, perking up a little.

 

“Yeah, we think so. Jody said Donna was gonna drive down and all of them were going to take the van to our place, so I’m guessing the teens are coming too,” Dean explained.

 

“I’ll need to purchase a gift for them. What do these people want? I have no experience in gift purchasing.”

 

Sam laughed a little. “Relax, Cas. I’m sure Dean can take you out one of these days to go shopping.”

 

Dean shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

 

Sam scowled a little as the room quieted down, each person becoming involved in the film once again. Everything that had happened tonight was just a little suspicious. The comment about incest during the card game, Mary’s implication that it was something that was accepted by her and other hunters – Sam kept thinking back to the hospital a few days ago; _did_ she know the truth? Maybe it’d be worth something to bring it up to Dean.

 

Though, the thought of another fight starting over this made Sam’s stomach twist. And they’d just been getting back to normal – as normal as ex-lovers and brothers _could_ get, of course. The last thing Sam wanted was another awkward mess right before Christmas. No, it might be best to let today go as a strange fluke. Sam decided he’d just watch, see if anything else strange happened.


	9. Look Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 9 Prompt: family + dinner

“Is it really worth it to do _two_ dinners?” Dean asked as he chopped potatoes.

 

“Yeah, I mean – we’re having a lot of people over on Christmas, but Mom wants something that’s just us. It makes sense to me. Plus this one’s smaller.”

 

Dean nodded. He scraped the potatoes into the pot of water and glanced over at Sam. A few days had passed since the incident over the game, and discovering their friends were a couple as well as twins. Sam and Dean had avoided too much time alone with one another; it was as if both feared saying or doing something stupid if they didn’t have someone else nearby.

 

To make matters worse, Dean _missed_ Sam. He’d missed him before – sure – but this – it felt too final.

 

Now they were alone in the kitchen and Dean had to restrain himself. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Sam and kiss him hard, promise to never leave him again. The words from the night they found still echoed in his head _‘I lied_. _I lied. I **lied**_ **.’** He hadn’t lied that night in that church. Sam came first no matter what. It was stupid of him to say he lied – he’d said it in a fit of rage and now he didn’t know how to take it back – how to fix it.

 

Of course, he didn’t know that Sam regretted his words and actions that evening too. He spent most nights now curled up around his pillow, wishing it was Dean. So close – only one door away – but so far. He’d wrecked their relationship, their bond, just as sure as he’d wrecked his wrist. And there was no way to fix it.

 

So, they stood, side by side in the kitchen, working on a family dinner. Broken hearts and bruised bones, they both wanted the same thing, but neither knew the truth.

 

**

 

“Dean? Could you go grab the bag of gifts out of my room please?” Mary asked, walking into the kitchen and pulling dishes out of the cupboard.

 

“Sure, but I thought we were gonna exchange tomorrow.”

 

“We are, for everyone else, but I wanted to give you boys each something special, before everyone else arrives.”

 

Dean smiled for a brief second and nodded, heading out.

 

Mary stepped up to Sam, squeezing his shoulder. “How’s the wrist?”

 

“Oh, it’s good today, thanks Mom.”

 

Mary nodded, looking over Sam’s shoulder. She gasped then. “Oh crap, I forgot that there’s more than one set of gifts on my bed – would you go tell Dean that it’s the black bag? I want to get these dishes set up.” She said, shifting the plates in her hand.

 

Sam nodded, setting down the spoon he was using and heading out the door.

 

Cas appeared again, smiling a little. “It should be timed correctly – are you sure this is going to work?”

 

Mary shook her head. “I honestly have no idea. It’s low enough that I know Sam will notice, and they’ve been tense since that night. We can only hope it’ll at least get them talking.”

 

Cas nodded. “Well, I’ll go, call for me if you need something else.”

 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Mary offered, smiling at Cas. “I know the boys talk about you like you’re a brother to them. They consider you family, so I will too.”

 

“Well, thank you, Mary.”

 

Her smile grew and she shoved plates into his arms. “But that means you get to help me set the table.”

 

**

 

Sam walked down the hallway quickly, heading for the room Mary had been staying in. He rounded the corner at the same time Dean did, coming from the opposite direction. They crashed into each other, Sam crying out in surprise when pain ripped through his arm where it was pinned between Dean’s chest and his own.

 

Dean cried out, jumping back and raising his hands. “Shit, Sammy, I’m so sorry!”

 

Sam grimaced. “It’s okay, it’s fine. Just stung. I was coming to tell you which bag to grab.”

 

“I couldn’t find any bags, actually, I was coming to ask Mom if she put them somewhere else by accident.”

 

“Well, let’s look for it. She told me it was a black bag.”

 

Dean nodded. He reached out and touched Sam’s elbow. “You sure your wrist is okay? I slammed pretty hard into you. That sling doesn’t offer much protection.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes deeply but smiled. “I’m o—“ He hesitated, something catching his eye. Tilting his head up a little, Sam laughed weakly. “Hey, Dean. Look up.”

 

Dean looked up, his cheeks pinking. “Who the hell hung that there?” He asked, reaching up and brushing his fingers over a long sprig of mistletoe hanging between them.

 

“Maybe mom?”

 

“Why? So she could awkwardly get caught under it and have to kiss one of us?”

 

Sam laughed a little. “Guess not. But it wasn’t me, and I know perfectly well it wasn’t you—“

 

“Why wouldn’t it have been me?”

 

“Who would you wanna kiss here?” Sam asked softly, dropping his gaze to the floor as he spoke.

 

“That’s a dumb question, Sammy.”

 

Sam scowled, tilting his head to the side just a bit. “How is it dumb? You don’t wanna kiss Mom. You never showed any interest in kissing Cas. You hate me.”

 

“I don’t hate you.”

 

Sam’s jaw twitched. “Let’s just look for the presents.”

 

He tried to push past Dean to head toward Mary’s room but Dean grabbed his upper arm to stop him.

 

“We got caught under mistletoe, Sammy. It’s tradition,” Dean whispered, turning his head and lifting it so their mouths were only inches apart.

 

“Mom could catch us,” Sam whispered. “And we’re broken up,” He added after a second.

 

“What if I don’t want to be?”

 

“Dean, you—“

 

“I don’t care if Mom finds out, Sam,” Dean said quietly, his voice breaking. He turned a little, facing Sam more directly. His hand remained curled around Sam’s bicep. “I shouldn’t have said the shit I said. I didn’t mean it. You will _always_ come first.”

 

Sam wet his lips, parting them to draw in a shaky breath. “Dean – Don’t lie just to get me to stay.”

 

“I’m not. I wouldn’t do that, Sam.” Dean released Sam’s arm, only to grab his hips and push gently until Sam’s back was pressed to the doorframe. His eyes landed on Sam’s red mouth, his own lips parting. “Say yes, Sam. I won’t do this unless you want it,” He pleaded, dragging his gaze up.

 

Sam drew in a shaky breath. “Yes.”

 

Their lips met, lining up perfectly. Soft versus chapped lips, mouths opening, tongues sliding together like a well-rehearsed dance. It didn’t stay slow for very long, however; Dean was too desperate and Sam was more than willing to reciprocate. Biting, groaning, hands sliding over bodies memorized and missed.

 

Sam broke the kiss to gasp when Dean jerked his hips forward, grinding their hardening cocks together.

 

Dean’s mouth found his pulseline, nipping gently. He moved back, undoing Sam’s belt with shaking hands while Sam laughed breathlessly.

 

“Dean – We’ve got dinner cooking—“

 

“I don’t care, Sam. I was a fucking idiot. I’ve missed you for almost a damn month and I’m tired of it.”

 

Sam’s laugh was cut short when Dean captured his mouth again, their teeth clicking together. Dean’s hand slipped down the front of Sam’s undone jeans, gripping his hardening cock and pulling a whimper out of Sam’s throat.

 

“Please—“ He panted into Dean’s mouth.

 

“I got you, Sammy,” Dean whispered, sliding his free hand into Sam’s hair and giving a gentle tug as he stroked Sam’s silken cock in a loose fist, using the rough cotton of his boxers as additional stimulation.

 

“Oh God!”

 

Dean jerked back at the sound of their mother’s voice. They both looked over and Dean flushed red.

 

“Mom, I—It’s not what it looks like,” He tried weakly, knowing there was _no_ getting out of this.

 

Mary shut her eyes and turned her back to the brothers. She shook her head, raising her hand. “Nope. Don’t want to hear it,” She said softly before walking out of the room.

 

Dean slumped against Sam, pulling his hand out of Sam’s jeans. “Fuck.”

 

Sam winced, straightening up and struggling to close his pants one handed. “I—I’m so sorry, Dean,” He whispered.

 

Dean shook his head, his eyes closed. He moved away from Sam, pressing his back to the opposite side of the doorframe and sliding down it slowly until he was crouched, his face in his hands.

 

“Dean, I—“

 

“Don’t.”

 

Sam sighed softly and nodded. He reached up and grabbed the mistletoe before heading into his bedroom. Of course _this_ would happen, it was just his luck. _Always_ his bad luck.

 

**

 

Mary sat down at the kitchen island, rubbing her temples. Cas entered, scowling. “Mary? Are you alright?”

 

“Yes, Castiel, thank you.”

 

“You don’t seem alright. You look like Dean, actually. When he’s frustrated over something. Or when he’s suffering from a hangover, though that doesn’t happen very often. I could get you some aspirin? Or perhaps find you some sort of natural remedy. I’ve heard pe—“

 

“Castiel. Stop,” Mary instructed, offering him a soft smile. “I am okay. I just saw the boys is all, it startled me.”

 

“Your sons frightened you?”

 

“No. I walked in on them having a bit of an intimate moment.”

 

Cas hesitated, his eyes roaming the room, lips pursed, as he tried to put it together. When he clicked he gasped a little.

 

“I see. Did you walk in on them having intercourse? The first time that happened to me I was shocked. I had observed anal intercourse from heaven, of course, but to see it up close. It doesn’t look pleasant. Though Dean did seem to be e—“

 

“Oh God, stop talking, Castiel.”

 

“My apologies.”

  
“Don’t—Talk about my sons having sex. Ever. Okay?” She laughed a little. “I didn’t walk in on that. They were kissing and getting kind of hot and heavy. It just surprised me.”

 

“Didn’t you want them to get back together?” Cas asked, sitting down next to Mary. He tilted his head to the side, his expression open and clearly ready to listen.

 

“I did. I do, I mean I’m glad. But thinking about it is a whole lot different than seeing it in real life.”

 

“Would you prefer them to only be intimate in private? I’m sure they would – they were before.”

 

“I think that’s what caused their big fight, honestly. It’s not fair of me to ask them to keep their relationship behind closed doors in their own home. I’ll get used to it.”

 

“They are your sons. No one would fault you for not.”

 

“I know,” Mary said. She sighed a little and rose, stirring the pot of gravy. “But that’s just it. They’re my sons. Dean and Sam are the only family I have now. If I don’t accept them, and their version of family, I won’t have anyone.”

 

Cas nodded, a soft smile spreading on his face. “You know, Mary, I may be out of line, as I’m not exactly human. Sam and Dean have a very unique relationship. Considering their blood relation and their soulmate status. Their romantic relationship really isn’t shocking when that’s considered. But above it all, they are brothers still. They’re family. I’ve seen them fight badly enough that I worried one would end up dead – but they always came back to each other. Though they might be different and a little broken in a lot of ways, their sense of family is one of the truest I’ve seen in many centuries. Family is everything to the Winchester brothers, and you, I think.”

 

Mary looked over at Cas for a long moment after he finished speaking. She contemplated his words, tried to understand him fully. Finally, she smiled and set the spoon down. Quickly, she closed the gap between them and wrapped Cas in a long hug.

 

“Thank you for that, Castiel.”

 

“F—For what?”

 

“Saying that. Thank you. Can you make sure this food doesn’t burn? It’s almost done. I need to go talk to the boys.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Mary rushed out, heading to Sam’s room. To her surprise, Sam was alone in his room, sitting at the desk, his back to the door.

 

“Sam? Can we talk?”

  
Sam tensed visibly at the sound of her voice. He shifted, closing a notebook and stuffing it into a drawer. He wiped his face with his good hand and turned, trying unsuccessfully to meet her gaze.

 

“I’m sorry. You probably think I’m sick,” He murmured.

 

“Not in the slightest.” Mary entered further and sat on the edge of the bed, facing Sam. “Look at me.”

 

Sam raised his head slowly. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was red, a clear sign he’d been crying. Mary smiled, reaching out and brushing away a stray tear he’d missed. “There’s no need to cry, Sam.”

 

“Dean hates me now. And you—“

 

“I don’t hate you, son. Why do you think Dean does? As far as I can tell, he’s quite madly in love with you.”

 

“He—“ Sam’s throat closed, cutting his sentence off. He sniffled and blinked rapidly to keep from beginning to cry again. When he was sure he could maintain some modicum of composure, he began again.

 

“He had made me promise not to tell you about us. We’d been doing good but I kept pushing. Over and over, and I ignored his wishes and now, because I couldn’t keep my resolve and leave when I said I was going to, and when I said yes out there even though I knew there was a chance we’d get caught – I ruined everything he’s worked so hard for.”

 

Mary’s shoulders sank as Sam explained his reasoning. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Sam.”

 

He looked at her, narrowing his gaze.

 

She continued, “I know you two are dating, Sam. I’ve known for sure since you both lied to me in the hospital, but I’d suspected long before that. I hung that mistletoe in an effort to get you boys back together.”

 

“Then why did you—“

 

“Run out of the room when I walked in on you?”

 

Sam laughed weakly and nodded.

 

“Honey, having a good idea that your two babies – the two boys you gave birth to – are in a romantic relationship, it’s startling, but it’s just an idea. Actually seeing them in the position I walked in on – it’s a little more to handle.”

 

“I’m sorry – I should’ve stopped him. It was stupid of me –“

 

“You know you blame yourself an awful lot for things that might not be entirely your fault. I’m not from this time, but I don’t believe that sex has changed all that much, and it usually takes two people. You boys share the blame, but there’s nothing to feel bad over. This is your home, and you’re in a relationship. You shouldn’t feel guilty over that.”

 

“We’re brothers. And your sons.”

 

“And, according to Castiel, soulmates. And if the stories about you two are true – If you weren’t so in love the world would have ended a long time ago.”

 

Sam hung his head again, picking at a loose string on the wrapping around his arm.

 

“Go talk to Dean,” Mary said softly. “I’ll come with you.”

 

Sam shook his head. “No, I – I’m gonna let him calm down.”

 

“Then I’ll talk to him first.” She rose and reached out, running her fingers through Sam’s hair. “I don’t care that you two are together. It’s shocking and it’s new, but you’re happy with him, Sam. And he’s happy with you. That’s all a mother wants for her babies.”

 

Sam looked up, his eyes wet with fresh tears at her words. “Thank you.”

 

She shrugged and leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Go out to the kitchen and make sure that angel doesn’t ruin dinner. I’m not confident that he can cook.”

 

“Neither can you,” Sam joked, earning a light slap on his good shoulder.

 

“Go, Mister. You might be a foot taller than me, but I can still take away your dessert.”

 

“You’d have to take away his salad to really punish him,” Dean’s voice startled them both.

 

The turned to see Dean leaning in the doorway.

  
“Dean, I was just coming to talk to you,” Mary said.

 

“I know. I was coming to talk to Sammy and heard you two.”

 

“How much did you hear?”

 

“A bit. Enough.” Dean let his hand drop off the doorframe as he entered the room fully. “Are you being serious? That you’re… Okay with us screwing? As brothers?”

 

Mary shrugged before nodding. “Yes.”

 

“Mom, it’s okay if you’re not. We know it’s sick.”

 

“No, it isn’t.” Mary looked Dean in the eyes. “Don’t you dare let me hear you saying that again. Love is _not_ sick. Sure, you’re unconventional, and I don’t condone it – it’s strange. But you two are a special case, don’t you think?”

 

“We’re still blood.”

 

“You’re also soulmates. And you’re both clearly consenting – it was pretty clear you were both into what was going on when I interrupted. You’re my family, boys. I’m not going to let this take you away from me.”

 

Dean smiled a little, looking past Mary at Sam, who matched his smile.

 

“Kiss and make up?” Sam offered.

 

“Come on Sam – Not in front of Mom,” Dean said, looking down as a blush crossed his cheeks.

 

Mary laughed. “I’ll leave you boys to talk. But don’t be ashamed of what you have, okay? I’ll get used to this, just like I’ve gotten used to living in 2016. We’re family, and that’s what’s important.”

 

Sam smiled softly. “Thanks Mom.”

 

“Yeah, thank you,” Dean said softly. She nodded and stepped out of the room. She glanced back.

 

“Oh, do you mind that I invited Cas to stay for our family dinner? He’s worked so hard helping me try to get you boys back together.”

 

Dean chuckled, stopping midway to Sam. “I’m gonna kill him. Yeah, course he can stay. He’s family too.”

 

Mary nodded. She took a few steps further out the door before looking back, smiling a little. It was strange to see, but by God, she’d never seen Dean – or Sam – look happier than that moment as their lips met.


	10. Extended Family, Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 10 Prompt: secret Santa and snowstorm

“Mom, I’m getting worried,” Sam admitted, forcing the heavy door of the bunker shut against the screaming wind.

 

“Why?”

 

“Dean’s been gone way longer than normal. I know he was gonna meet them in town and all that but it’s been two hours. What if they got stuck?”

 

“Sam, relax. I’m sure the twins were just late. This weather is terrible.”

 

Sam sighed softly, chewing his lip. He went to the door again, forcing it open. A blast of cold air chilled the bunker.

 

“Jesus, Sam, shut the door. You might have some magical heating element but you’re really putting it to the test,” Jody scolded as she emerged from the kitchen.

 

Mary grinned over at her. “Were you eating those cookies again?”

 

“Nope,” Jody lied, cracking a big smile. She went over to the tree and rearranged a few of the gifts gathered there before sighing up at Sam.

 

“He’ll be fine, Sam. You know Dean,” She assured him.

 

Sam heaved the door shut and leaned on it for a second. “When’s Cas coming by?”

 

“I have no idea, Sam. He’s an angel – he doesn’t seem to follow a strict schedule,” Mary said.

 

“Why don’t you get down here and help me and the ladies with dinner?” Jody offered.

 

“But, I—“

 

“Sam, you can hear that door open anywhere in the bunker. You won’t miss him coming back. It’s a snowstorm.”

 

Sam scowled a little but trotted down the stairs, following Jody into the kitchen. She stopped him halfway there and with a squeeze to his good shoulder.

 

“Talk to me.”

  
“About what?”

 

“I’ve seen Sam Winchester face down gods, vampires, demons, and everything else. Now, I know mentioned the whole relationship thing, but you made it sound like you boys have been more than brothers for a long time.”

 

“We have.”

 

“So why are you so spooked? You’re acting like a suspicious housewife. These are the twins, they’re not gonna run off with Dean or something.”

 

“I know that, I like the twins.”

 

“So what’s wrong?”

 

Sam hung his head, his face reddening from neck to hairline. “You’d just laugh.”

 

“Probably, but tell me anyway.”

 

He sighed. “I don’t like snowstorms.”

 

“No one does, they’re cold and miserable.”

 

“No, like, I’m terrified of them.”

 

Jody chuckled. “What? Why? You’re a hunter.”

 

“And everyone’s got a fear. Snowstorms and blizzards are mine.”

 

Jody cocked her head, reaching out and touching Sam’s arm. “Why are you scared of them?”

 

“When I was little, maybe seven or so, Dad took Dean out to find a Christmas tree. It was one of the last Christmases he spent with us. But they left me behind in this cabin. I was clever enough and they were only supposed to be gone for an hour or so, cause we were in the middle of the woods – not that hard to find a tree.

 

Anyway, this snowstorm hit out of nowhere, and it hit hard. They got stuck in the woods for two days. I was alone in the cabin. The fire went out and I didn’t know how to restart it, and I didn’t know how to cook yet or anything, so I ate what I could that didn’t need to be cooked – which wasn’t much – and melted snow to drink because the pipes froze. I thought I was going to die.”

 

“Oh Sam,” Jody whispered.

 

Sam shrugged. “When Dean finally got back we spent the next three days in bed together. He promised me he’d never leave me alone in a snowstorm again. Every snowstorm I’ve been in since then – I’ve had Dean with me. That’s why when he’s gone I went to hot places – so I wouldn’t get caught without him… But now he’s out in one and I’m kind of freaking out.”

 

Jody smiled softly and reached up, pulling Sam into a tight hug. “He’ll be okay,” She whispered.

 

Sam tried to smile, hugging back as well as he could. “I know he will be. I’m more worried about myself right now,” He admitted.

 

“Well let’s get you cooking and maybe it’ll distract you. And, is your sign language any good? I know a little but I keep messing up and I’m afraid Eileen is going to throw a pan at my head if I get in her way one more time.”

 

Sam laughed a little. “Even if you were fluent in sign language she still might. She’s a pistol.”

 

“Damage control?” Jody offered.

 

Sam nodded, letting her lead the way into the kitchen. He had to laugh out loud at what he walked into.

 

Eileen and Alex were in what was clearly a very heated discussion through sign language, Eileen huffing every few seconds and making the motion for ‘no’. Donna was stirring four different pans of food and scolding it when it snapped, bubbled, or popped in her direction. Claire was off in the corner of the kitchen, dancing to music barely audible through a pair of earbuds and chopping up vegetables at a quick pace.

 

Jody slipped in next to Donna, taking over a few of the pots. “Get in here, Winchester – you’re not going to let the women do all the cooking, are you?”

 

The question drew Alex’s attention. She laughed, “Who does the cooking in your relationship, Sam?” She teased. He glared halfheartedly at her, going over to the sink to begin washing up the already dirty dishes.

 

“Never should have told you guys,” He muttered.

 

“Oh come on, we already knew, Sam. You’re terrible at hiding feelings,” Jody said, and Donna nodded.

 

“Oh yeah. That Dean’s a cute one but he’s always had eyes for his one and only, and it sure wasn’t a pretty girl.”

 

“Well, I don’t know. Sam could be confused for an Amazon girl from behind, couldn’t he?” Claire teased.

 

Sam snorted. “Funny story about Amazons, actually.”

 

“They’re real?” Claire asked, her attention fully on Sam then.

 

“They are. I’ll tell you the story if you keep chopping.”

 

She rolled her eyes and took her earbuds out, turning back to continue chopping as Sam began to tell the story of the Amazons they’d met a few years back.

 

**

 

It was an hour later when Dean finally pushed open the door to the bunker, shaking snow off his coat.

 

Sam rushed in, breathing a visible sigh of relief when he saw Dean, Max, and Alicia enter safely.

 

“What the hell took so long?” He tried to scold, scowling when he saw how _red_ they all were.

 

“Fucking roads are insane. You’d think people would stay _home_ in weather like this. But no, everyone’s out having a grand old time driving. Seven accidents. We had to avoid – and help – _seven_ accidents,” Dean explained, coming down the stairs as he shrugged out of his coat and boots.

 

“Excuse me, Dean – I know this your house, but considering the amount of guests you have – don’t you think those boots belong somewhere else?” Jody scolded, wiping her hands on a dishtowel as she followed Sam into the war room.

 

Dean flushed red. “Yeah, sorry.” He snagged his boots and put them in the corner of the room, hanging his jacket on the coat rack. “Uh, I think everyone in this room knows the twins – where’s everyone else?”

 

“Oh you mean the servant party your brother has? All of us women are slaving away in the hot kitchen. Care to join us, Alicia?”

 

Alicia beamed, still looking around the bunker in awe. “Um, sure – no problem.”

 

“We’ll give you the grand tour later,” Dean promised. “Max, come on, I’ll show you to your guys’ room.” He clapped Max on the back before turning and pressing a quick kiss to Sam’s mouth.

 

Sam gasped a little, glancing at Max, who only smiled.

 

“Don’t worry – we talked about it in the car. We’re all good,” Dean explained, brushing his cold fingers along the curve of Sam’s neck.

 

Sam smiled and nodded, leaning in for a deeper kiss.

 

“We’d be a little hypocritical if we weren’t okay with it, wouldn’t we?” Alicia asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the brothers before Jody spirited her into the kitchen.

 

“She’s got a point,” Dean admitted. “What’re you doing?”

 

“Helping out the ladies, everyone’s here except Cas and Crowley, Rowena if she decides to show.”

 

“Awesome, I’ll show Max his room and he wanted to check out the library for a bit, figures we might have some good books on the type of magic he’s learning. After I get him settled in, I’ll come to the kitchen and relieve you.”

 

“Relieve me?” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“A month without sex and you’ve got a dirtier mind than me, baby brother.”

 

“What can I say?” He kissed Dean once more and ducked back into the kitchen, Mary following close behind as someone dropped something metal and swore loudly.

 

**

 

“I don’t think we have ever had this many people in the bunker at one time,” Dean commented, looking around the room.

 

They were all settled in the library where the tree was set up. Alex and Claire had commandeered one loveseat, the twins taking over a second one. Crowley and Rowena had settled into chairs nearby and Cas sat close to Mary on the final loveseat. The others found seating in chairs or on the floor on pillows and Dean settled in one chair near the tree to pass out gifts – designated ‘Santa Claus’ as he proudly proclaimed. Of course, he was just a little tipsy from the cleverly smuggled beer the twins had brought down from their Grandmother’s house.

 

Sam settled on the floor next to Dean, helping him with the formidable pile of gifts. There was a smaller pile on one of the tables, a game that the brothers had decided to implement since they had friends to celebrate with this year.

 

They passed out the larger pile, laughing and opening their own. There were plenty of gag gifts, even among the newer members of the ragtag group of friends.

 

Dean was proud to admit that even Crowley and Rowena got in on the enjoyment – for a demon and a centuries old witch they were sure enjoying a Christian holiday.

 

When all the main gifts had been passed out, Dean rose, going to the smaller pile of gifts on the table.

 

“Alright, looks like all of you actually took part in this – you guys are awesome. I’m not gonna lie, this has been something I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid, and we finally got enough friends _to_ do it,” He said. There were thirteen gifts, on the table, each wrapped in a sheet of newspaper with a single name on it.

 

Dean chuckled a little. He was surprised they’d pulled it off – Sam and Dean had each taken half of their friends – and each other’s names – and assigned them to be Secret Santas. The plan, if the rest of the guys listened, was to get the most obnoxious and cliché gift possible, and the recipient would have one guess of who their Santa was.

  
“Alright, who do we wanna have go first?” Dean asked.

 

“Alphabetical. Fair that way. So, Alex.” He passed her gift over.

 

She opened it and began to laugh, holding up an enormous plaid box with ‘Love Doctor’ written on each side. Her cheeks pinked up and she laughed harder, hiding her face with her hand.

 

“Whoever bought me condoms is an asshole,” she muttered into her palm.

 

“Who do you think Santa is?” Dean asked, smirking knowingly.

 

Alex set the box down, still shaking her head. “Probably you,” She accused.

 

“That your official guess?”

 

Alex’s eyes narrowed at Dean before looking around the room. “No… I think it was Claire.”

 

“I did no such thing,” Claire said, smirking. “I would’ve bought you a lot more than a hundred.”

  
Alex punched her in the arm, earning a stern look from Jody, but Claire just laughed.

 

“Seriously though, wasn’t me,” She said.

 

And so the game continued. Alicia received a box set of the Harry Potter books, as well as a replica time-turner device. She correctly guessed that Dean was her Santa. He defended his choice by saying that she _was_ a good witch – it was either Harry Potter or The Wizard of Oz, and that would’ve only been fun if he could’ve made a Glinda the Good Witch joke.

 

Cas received a Bible and was well and truly stumped over who purchased it for him, though he did find it necessary to explain the fallacies in the Bible versus Chuck’s _actual_ words. At least, until Rowena offered to turn him into a mouse.

 

Claire’s gift was a wooden stake. Those that knew Claire’s tendency to be a bit overzealous with her hunting had a good laugh, and she incorrectly guessed that Jody was her Santa. Jody defended herself by stating that if she’d been assigned Claire she would have purchased her a textbook rather than a hunting tool.

 

Crowley was resistant when Dean passed over his gift. “You know this is a ridiculous game,” He said simply.

 

“But it’s fun, you gotta admit it.”

 

Crowley scowled a little but took the square gift, tearing the paper off. He shook his head and held up the book, ‘Satanism: A Beginner’s Guide to Religious Worship of Satan and Demons’ the bright purple cover boasted. The room was silent for a moment until Mary began to laugh, trying her hardest to stifle the noise.

 

Even Crowley joined in once others began to laugh; it _was_ a fitting gag gift.

 

“Who do you think got you it?” Dean asked when the teasing had quieted a little.

 

Crowley looked around and shook his head. “No idea, honestly. Though it’s a smart gift, so it surely wasn’t _you_.”

 

Dean threw him a glare. “I can put you in a devil’s trap. Room full of hunters.”

 

“That wouldn’t be very Christmas spirit of you, now would it?”

 

Sam laughed a little and squeezed Dean’s thigh.

 

“I think it was you,” Crowley said, thrusting the book toward Sam.

 

“Why me?”

 

“Because you’d be the smart ass that would get the king of Hell something like this.”

 

Sam’s grin grew impossibly wide. “It was me, but you gotta admit that was a damn good gift.”

“I’ll admit no such thing.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed a small package off the table, pushing it into Dean’s hands. “Your turn.”

 

Dean turned the package over in his palm for a moment.

 

“The small ones scare me worse,” He admitted before opening it.

 

It was at that moment that twelve people got to witness what Dean Winchester – proud hunter and overall tough guy – looks like when he blushes. He held up the gift after a moment, dropping his head as a chuckle rumbled his chest. Sex dice.

 

“Whoever bought me this is the king – or queen – of assholes and you had _better_ ‘fess up if I get it wrong.”

 

“Why would they do that? It’s so much more fun to watch you squirm,” Sam said.

 

“If your wrist wasn’t broken I’d push you off the table.”

 

“Be nice to your brother,” Mary scolded without any real force behind it.

 

“Or he’ll get revenge in the _worst_ way,” Alicia finished, earning a halfhearted glare from Max.

 

Dean laughed snidely, pulling a face. “Know from personal experience, huh?”

 

Alicia shrugged. “So who knows you well enough to buy you sex dice, huh?”

 

“Well I’d say Sam because he’s an ass – but I know who I assigned him to. Um,” He laughed a little, scratching his temple. “Jody?”

 

Jody shook her head slowly, “Sorry, Dean – not me.”

 

“Okay, I know it’s against the rules, who the hell bought these?”

 

Sam nudged Dean and tilted his head. Dean followed where he was motioning, the smile dropping from his face when he realized.

 

 _“Mom_?”

 

Mary smiled widely and shrugged. “Guilty as charged. I actually had Castiel’s assistance with picking it out – he hacked your Google Amazon history or something – found a bunch of those on your Wishlist.”

 

Dean covered as much of his face as he could with his hand. “Dear God.”

 

“Hey, at least she got you something you _wanted_ … And was pretty accurate.”

 

“Sam!”

 

Sam grinned wider and passed over the next gift to Donna.


	11. Everything We Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Day 11 baking and Christmas Eve

Dean snaked his hand around Sam’s waist, brushing his hip briefly before moving past it. He’d just managed to reach the pile of cooling gingerbread cookies when the plastic spatula came down hard over his knuckles.

 

“Ow!” He yelped, jerking his hand back.

 

Mary thrust the spatula in his face, tapping him on the nose with it. “Your brother might let you get away with sneaking treats but I won’t. Either help or get out of the kitchen.”

 

Dean pulled back, rubbing his reddened knuckles.

 

Sam turned and laughed a little, his tongue tracing over his top teeth as he struggled not to say anything.

 

“Speak a word and I’ll close your fingers in a door,” Dean threatened, jutting his finger in Sam’s face.

 

“Too bad, I thought you were going to say hit _me_ with a spatula,” Sam said.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Keep it in your pants, you’d like that too much. So, what do you guys want me to do out here, Mom?”

 

“I want you to stop making sex jokes in the kitchen for starters,” Mary admitted.

 

“Shit, sorry, Mom,” Sam said, his face heating up.

 

“Don’t be sorry – I’m just old fashioned. There’s a lot I’m still getting used to.”

 

“We’ll tone it down, I promise. Just not used to being able to be so… Open about it.”

 

Mary smiled over at Sam, reaching out to brush her thumb over the curve of his jaw tenderly. “Don’t feel bad. I’m getting used to it. I don’t flinch when I see you two kiss anymore – and that only took me twenty-four hours. I’d just prefer not to hear about the more intimate details. Knowing you boys do that is one thing, hearing about it is another.”

 

Sam’s mouth curved into a shy smile and he reached up, giving her small wrist a squeeze for a brief second. “We get it, Mom. Thank you for understanding.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m not going to lose my boys over something like this. Now, Dean, would you run to the store and pick up another carton of eggs? We ran out quicker than I anticipated.”

 

“Mom, you’ve got like four dozen cookies here, how much do you expect us to eat?”

 

“Well I’m sending a dozen home with the twins for their grandmother, and then some home with them of course. And I’m giving some to Eileen – my Mom used to make these every winter, they’re excellent for a quick pick me up on the road to a case. Just enough sugar to keep you awake and your blood pressure up. So, it makes sense. Plus, Donna and Jody are making a couple of pies for tomorrow from scratch, they’ll need eggs too.”

 

“And I’m making that eggnog bread,” Sam reminded her.  


“Jesus, is everyone baking except me?”

 

“Well, you could help us, or if you wanted to make something, I wouldn’t mind. I just know you took the bulk of the cooking for tomorrow. We were trying to help you out a little.”

 

Dean smiled and reached up, brushing a strand of Sam’s hair behind his ear. “I’ll help you guys if you need it – I know you will with your gimp wrist.”

 

Sam glared at him for the comment and dug in his pocket, pulling out a piece of folded paper. “Since you’re picking up eggs, get that stuff as well.”

 

Dean opened the sheet and gaped. “Jesus Sam, this is a ton of food.”

 

“Shouldn’t have made fun of my wrist – it was _your_ fault I slipped anyway.”

 

“How was it my fault?”

 

“Because you were the one that knocked the bottle onto the floor.”

 

“And _you_ were the one that didn’t close it all the way.”

 

“Because you were too impatient to let me!”

 

“Boys!” Jody shouted, entering the kitchen. “What the hell are you bickering over now?”

 

“Who’s fault it is that Sam broke his wrist,” Mary said, giving Sam a shove toward Dean so she could take over mixing the frosting.

 

“Well, isn’t it Sam’s fault? I thought you fell or something?” Jody asked, stepping next to Mary to start putting cookies into bags.

 

“I did, but I slipped on lube. And it was his fault the lube spilled because he bumped the nightstand with his elbow.”

 

“But it wouldn’t have fallen and spilled if you’d closed it all the way,” Dean repeated.

 

“I didn’t have _time_ , overeager.”

 

“I’d say it’s both your faults,” Jody said simply, shrugging.

 

“Thank y – What?” Dean scowled. “How is this my fault?”

 

“Because you were overeager. But Sam should have made you wait and still closed the lid. So, both at fault.”

 

Mary looked over at Jody and smiled. “You’re probably a damn good cop.”

 

“I hope so, otherwise I don’t know why they keep me on,” Jody joked.

 

Dean snagged his coat. “I’m gonna get this damn shopping done.”

 

“Oh, can you grab some more paper plates and plastic wrap as well?”

 

“Need a whole new kitchen too?” Dean joked, earning a scolding smile from Mary.

 

“No problem. Hey Jody, I’m dragging the girls along with me, that okay?”

 

“You can take Alex but Claire is busy with Castiel and Crowley.”

 

Dean nodded. “See ya.”

 

“Dean!” Sam called before Dean slipped out the door.

 

“What now?”

 

“I gotta add something to that list. Promise you won’t forget it.” He went over and took the paper that Dean held out. As well as he could manage with his left, he added the few items Mary had requested as well as one very special item at the bottom. He refolded the list and slipped it into Dean’s jacket pocket, brushing their mouths together as he did. “Drive safe. Don’t forget that last item.”

 

Dean’s brows furrowed but he nodded. “Promise I won’t,” He said before turning and heading out, calling for Alex to follow him.

 

**

 

“Sam?” Dean wandered through the bunker, searching for his brother.

 

It was quiet; the human guests and Cas were out looking at Christmas lights a few towns over and Crowley and Rowena had gone earlier that day to do – whatever the hell it was they did. Dean had been in the kitchen, doing some prep on the meal for tomorrow’s big dinner and Sam had mentioned needing to get something from the library. When he didn’t return, Dean assumed he got caught up reading a book or organizing something; that library was a small heaven on earth for Sam.

 

But Sam wasn’t in the library when Dean had finished prepping.

 

“Sam?” He called again when he reached the bedroom hallway.

 

“Our room,” Sam called, his voice muffled by their closed bedroom door.

 

Dean scowled and pushed it open, his feet refusing to move past the entrance when he caught sight of what was inside.

 

The room was lit by a handful of large candles, peppermint and cinnamon scented if Dean’s nose was correct. The bed was made neatly, a small box wrapped in shiny green and red paper and topped with a big blue bow in the center of it.

 

Sam was sprawled in the desk chair wearing just a pair of red boxers, shoved down in the front so the band was resting under his balls. He was lazily stroking his cock, watching Dean with half closed eyes. His broken wrist was resting on the desk, safely out of the way.

 

“What’s this?” Dean finally managed to croak.

 

“A present. It’s something I figured you didn’t want to open in front of our friends, and I figured Christmas Eve was as good as any time to give it to you.”

 

Dean approached the bed slowly, running his fingers over the smooth paper. He took a seat on the bed and set the box onto his lap. He slipped his pointer finger under the fold and pulling the tape back. He felt the bed sink and looked up, stomach twisting in a delightful little knot when he saw Sam, on his knees in front of him. Sam’s cock was jutting out of his boxers, tip a dusky pink, a dewdrop of precome adorning the slit. His lips were parted – pink and swollen, wet already – moreso when Sam’s tongue darted out to run over the bottom one.

 

Their eyes met and Sam smiled softly. “Open it.”

 

Dean cleared his throat, his jeans suddenly much too tight for his comfort. Focusing his attention on the package, he tore off the paper and tugged open the flaps of the innocuous brown box, a low groan ripping from his throat when he saw the contents.

 

Nestled into a bed of brightly colored red and green tissue paper was a sleek black anal plug. Short and curved, Dean knew it would hit his prostate dead on. That wasn't the most shocking - and arousing - thing, however. The plug curved down an inch or so before a small bump - if he knew his anatomy it would hit his perineum from the outside. After the bump, it continued, ending in a cock ring.

 

Dean reached in, running the tips of his fingers over the ring before grasping it and withdrawing it, turning it over in his hands. 

 

"Do you like it?"

 

Dean smiled, looking up at Sam, who was leaning forward and looking incredibly eager. 

 

"Yeah, I do. Bet I'll like it even more inside me. Did you plan this? Us having the bunker to ourselves?"

 

"No. Happy coincidence. My plan was originally to take you down to the torture chamber - since it's sound proof I figured you'd be okay with that if our friends and Mom were around."

 

Dean chuckled and leaned forward, letting his mouth brush over Sam's. "Thank you."

 

"Don't thank me yet. I have quite a few goodies in store for you," he said. 

 

He moved back and rose, pushing his boxers off. Dean watched a look of hesitation cross his face.

 

"What's up? We can wait if this'll be too hard on your arm. Or - If you're still mad about... This whole month."

 

Sam smiled then and shook his head. "We had a fight, it happens. We're brothers, first and foremost. Brothers fight."

 

"But what I said, I was outta line."

 

"No. you were right to say it," Sam whispered.

 

"How? I said it to hurt. Nothing else."

 

"I needed to hear it. I was being selfish. I don't always come first, that's life."

 

"Not our life." Dean set the toy on the bed and rose, turning Sam to face him. "Not us. Sam, I went to Hell for you. I-- I gave up Lisa, Cassie, Benny, hell, I'd give up all of this - everything we've gained now. For you."

 

"You shouldn't have to. You _don't_ have to. It's not fair."

 

"I want to, Sammy. Don't you get that? It's never been a need. I _want_ to put you first."

 

Sam hung his head, not sure what to say. He felt bitter tears stinging his nose - way to ruin a fun night. He _really_ hated Christmas.

 

Seeming to sense the shift in the mood, Dean pulled Sam into a hug, burying his face in the curve of Sam's neck. 

 

"Nothing, ever. Nothing is gonna come before you, Sam. Please tell me you believe that," he whispered into Sam's shoulder.

 

Sam nodded, curling his good arm around Dean's back, his fingers fisting Dean's shirt. 

 

"Hey, its Christmas Eve. We fixed our mess, we got Mom and Cas and all our friends. A real home, a good car, good food. It's what you always wanted in life. I mean, we still hunt, but--"

 

"There's one thing missing," Sam admitted and Dean scowled, pulling back to meet Sam's eyes.

 

"What?"

 

Sam looked down again before reaching around Dean. He opened the drawer of the nightstand and dug around before standing straight again. Raising his hand, he opened his fist, letting the amulet from so long ago dangle from his fingers. 

 

"You still won't wear it."

 

"Oh, Sammy, I--"

 

"You don't have to. But, tonight... Can we just... Pretend? Can you wear it tonight?"

 

A soft smile curved Dean's lips upward. "Of course." 

 

He took the necklace and placed it over his head, the familiar weight against his chest more comforting than he'd expected it to be.

 

Sam smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers over the worn amulet. "Thank you."

 

"Don't thank me. Come on. I wanna try out this present... And honestly a month without sex with you has kinda killed me."

 

"You're just horny too much," Sam teased as he began to undo Dean's shirt.

 

"You love it," Dean argued back, working his belt loose. He hesitated then and grabbed Sam’s wrist. “We have everything we need, you know. Right here.”

 

“I know, Dean. Nothing more I could ask for.”


	12. A Christmas Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt Day 12: Christmas Day and surprises  
> Final day!

Dean groaned when the alarm went off the next morning, much too early for his pleasure. He smacked at his phone screen until it quieted down, rolling over and snuggling back up to his always overheated brother.

 

Sam laughed sleepily. “Gotta put the turkey on, De.”

 

“Five more minutes – you wore me out last night,” Dean mumbled against Sam’s shoulder.

 

“You’re the one that begged for more than one orgasm. I thought you were gonna pass out by the third.”

 

Dean smirked. “I needed to make up for lost time… Speaking of… Wanna go for number four this morning?” He slid his hand down Sam’s chest. It rumbled under his hand as Sam laughed.

 

“Really? I thought you wanted five more minutes of sleep.”

 

“Mm, five minutes of sleep or a morning quickie – do you really have to ask which one I’d choose?”

 

Sam laughed a little and leaned down, pressing a kiss to Dean’s mouth despite morning breath. “Roll onto your back – I’ll give you head.”

 

“But I want your dick,” Dean whined, sounding so much like a petulant child that Sam had to roll his eyes.

 

“But my dick is still tired from fucking you for two hours solid last night.”

 

Dean reached under the covers and began to stroke Sam’s limp cock until it started to thicken in his hand.

 

“Doesn’t feel too sore to me,” He whispered when Sam groaned.

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

“You love it.”

 

Sam whined softly, biting on his bottom lip as Dean continued to stroke him to hardness.

 

"De, come on... You're gonna be too sore to cook if I fuck you again," he panted.

 

"Never. If I could ride you _while_ I was cooking I'd be happy as hell."

 

Sam smirked. "I think I can take you up on that... But for now, roll over."

 

Dean let go of Sam's cock and flipped onto his stomach, lifting his ass in the air. He reached back and spread himself open.

 

Sam sat up and moaned softly when he saw Dean’s hole. He reached out and ran the tip of his finger over it. "I really did a number to you last night, Dean - are you sure you want this?"

 

Dean sighed, wiggling his ass. "I feel fine, Sam, except I need you inside me right now." 

 

Sam chuckled a little, gently massaging Dean's pucker. It fluttered and flexed under his finger, trying to draw it inside. He obliged, pressing just past the quivering muscles. He withdrew it, gasping when a thin stream of come and lube followed, running out and down over his balls.

 

"How full are you?" Sam asked, repeating the action to coax more come out.

 

Dean whimpered against the pillow, the tips of his fingers turning white with how tightly he was gripping his ass. “Full enough that you won’t need much lube. Or prep. Come _on_ , Sam.”

 

“You’re such a bossy bottom,” Sam muttered, but reached over and snagged the lube from the drawer.

 

“Don’t spill it this time,” Dean muttered into the pillow. He shouted in surprise when Sam’s palm came down hard over his bared hole.

 

“Behave.”

 

“Make me.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and slicked his cock. He added some more to Dean’s hole, rubbing it gently around before pushing inside, spreading his fingers to stretch him at least a little. Where his fingers opened, Sam watched more of his own come dribble out, creating a steadily worsening mess between Dean’s legs.

 

“Sam—“ Dean warned

 

“Oh shut up, I’m working on it,” Sam cut him off. He withdrew his fingers and lined up his tip with Dean’s hole, gently rubbing to tease.

 

A sharp knock at their door made Sam jerk away from Dean.

 

“Yeah?” He called, kicking the blanket over them.

 

“Are you boys decent?” Mary’s voice called.

 

Sam chuckled as Dean flattened himself onto the bed, his frustrated groan muffled by the pillow. Sam tugged the blanket over them a little further. “Yeah, we’re good, Mom.”

 

She pushed open the door and smiled softly, leaning on the frame. “It’s getting close to six, are you still gonna put the turkey in, Dean?”

 

“Yeah, gimme a few minutes to dress.”

 

“I’ll go ahead and get the oven turned on for you then,” She said before backing out and closing the door.

 

Dean groaned again, dropping his face into the pillow.

 

Sam laughed and tossed the covers back, rising and stretching.

 

“Seriously? Just gonna leave me like this?” Dean complained.

 

“Like what?”

  
“Ready for action.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, get up. The last thing we need is her walking back in because we’re in here too long. Plus if you don’t get that turkey done on time we’re gonna have a group of very pissed off friends.”

 

“But, you know, blue balls.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes deeply, grabbing clothes. “Don’t even go there, you know that’s pretty much a myth. And I know you well enough to know you can handle a little sexual frustration. Come on, up and at ‘em, Dean. I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

 

Dean grunted as Sam slapped his ass playfully before turning to dress.

 

“Here,” Dean rose and helped Sam into his clothes, careful of his injured wrist. “When are they gonna cast that thing?”

 

“I have about another week before the stitches are healed well enough to cast it and get me into therapy to get my hand working right again,” Sam said. He leaned on Dean as Dean dressed him.

 

“We’ll get you back in the game.”

 

Sam nodded, helping Dean put the sling back into place. His eyes fell on the amulet, still around Dean’s neck. “You can take that off now. Thank you for wearing it last night.”

 

Dean looked down, brushing his fingers over it. “Nah, I think I’ll keep it on.”

 

“What?” Sam asked, clearly surprised.

 

“I kinda missed this old thing. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it.”

 

Sam could barely hide the wide grin that threatened to break out across his face. “It’s always been yours. See you downstairs?”

 

Dean nodded, letting Sam kiss him before walking out of the bedroom.

 

**

 

“That is _not_ what happened, Moose,” Crowley argued, brandishing his fork in Sam’s general direction.

 

Sam laughed a little harder, shaking his head. “Yes it was! I remember you _pleading_ with me to just love you, and how you _deserved_ to be loved. I may have been half dead but I remember that.”

 

The dinner was going perfectly, much to Dean and Sam’s surprise. Food came out great and everyone was having a good time. It was a rag-tag group of people to say the very least, but they were making it work. Sam and Crowley were mid-argument about Crowley’s incessant need to be cared for, and everyone was getting a kick out of it.

 

“In my defense, I was intoxicated. You can’t hold something a drunk man did when he was drunk.”

 

Dean’s brows furrowed at that before Mary spoke, “Normally, you can. Because he chose to get drunk.”

 

“Yes, but I had no choice. Your lovely overgrown son drugged me against my own free will.”

 

“I was trying to save the world, Crowley,” Sam defended, exasperated. “And I didn’t know you’d get addicted to it. If I’d been able to continue you would’ve been a damn human and none of it would have mattered.”

 

“Ah, yes, but you’d be dead and I would have had your bullheaded brother to deal with. Not my idea of a party.”

 

“Dean does tend to get a little hot under the collar if he thinks his precious little Samuel’s in harm’s way, doesn’t he?” Rowena chipped in, taking a sip of her wine.

 

“Excuse me, I have a right. He’s my baby brother,” Dean argued.

 

“And your lover,” Eileen added, smirking at Dean.

 

Dean looked over at her, sighing. “You too? Come on, be on my side.”

 

Eileen rolled her eyes up, pretending to consider. “No. Why should I?” She asked after a moment.

 

“Because Sam and me helped you kill a banshee?” Dean asked and Eileen laughed.

 

“Helped? I saved you.”

 

“Wait, you boys have taken on a banshee?” Alicia asked, perking up. “I’ve heard stories about those things – they’re crazy scary.”

 

“Talk to Eileen about them, she’s been hunting them for years.” Sam said almost proudly, touching Eileen’s shoulder so she’d see him talking. “We stumbled onto her case when she finally took down the one she was looking for. She saved our lives that night – It had gotten ahold of Dean.”

 

“Holy crap. Do you mind if I pick your brain a little after dinner, Eileen?” Alicia asked. Eileen smiled and shook her head.

 

“Not at all, as long as I can ask you some questions about your witchcraft. That stuff fascinates me.”

 

“Definitely,” Alicia said, nodding enthusiastically.

 

“Oh God, you and books – I’m going to bed alone tonight, aren’t I?” Max teased, and Dean chuckled.

 

“Alicia the book worm?”

 

Max nodded, wincing when his twin punched him in the bicep. Dean laughed a little harder.

 

“It’s okay – Sammy is the same way. He’d sleep with a book over me some nights – Ow!” Dean winced when Sam stabbed his leg with the fork.

  
“Might have a broken wrist but I can still hurt you,” Sam warned.

 

“Would you two not screw on the table?” Claire mumbled, then winced when Alex kicked her.

 

“I think it’s cute,” Alex said, smirking toward Dean, who threw Sam a knowing look.

 

“Don’t you miss when no one knew about us?”

 

Sam chuckled. “Little bit.”

 

The table quieted then, everyone eating and enjoying their meal. Dean looked around the table slowly, setting his fork down as it all sank in. He didn’t notice Sam staring at him, or the silent tear that slipped down his cheek, until Sam reached out and wiped it off.

 

“You okay, Dean?”

 

Dean looked at him quickly and smiled, wiping his own face. “I’m good.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Dean could feel a few of their friends watching him now, sensing Sam’s sudden change of demeanor. He reached up and took Sam’s hand in his own, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I’m awesome, Sammy. Better than ever.”

 

Sam searched his face until he was satisfied Dean was telling the truth and let go of his hand, digging back into his food.

 

**

 

It wasn’t until they were all finished with dinner and were laughing over dessert that Dean rose, clearing his throat. He was struck with a sudden stage fright as twelve pairs of eyes landed on him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself.

 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything or make a big deal out of it, but you guys need to know. This is probably the best Christmas that me and Sammy have ever had. I mean, I had some when I was a baby, but I don’t remember ‘em. And Sam – Well, we were on the road before his first Christmas. This means a lot to me, and I’m sure to him. A lot of you guys are old faces, known Cas, of course, Crowley, Jody, a few of you, for years now. You’ve all helped us out so much, been there for us when no one else was. And a lot of new faces. Friends, that’s something I never thought me and Sam would have. Things were too dangerous to have friends. But you all get it. You’re all family in a way, and that’s awesome. So, thank you guys. Merry Christmas.”

 

The group all raised their drinks toward Dean and Sam offering their own responses of ‘Merry Christmas’ or general cheers. Sam rose quickly, seeing Dean’s face pink up even further. He set his hand on Dean’s back and pressed a kiss to his cheek supportively.

 

Dean looked over and smiled. He raised his hand to quiet the group again, wrapping his free arm around Sam’s waist. “And I figure, now’s as good a time as any to embarrass my baby brother.”

 

He looked over in time to see Sam scowl, eyeing their friends before looking back at him. “How are you gonna embarrass me?”

 

Dean’s grin grew wider. “By asking you if you’d wanna marry me sometime this week. I’ve got the paperwork for the certificate ready – just needs the signature of a Mr. Samuel Singer.”

 

Mary and Jody gasped then silence. It sounded life everyone was holding their breath – Dean included – as they watched Sam, waiting.

 

Sam’s mouth opened a bit, a slow creeping blush rising from the collar of his shirt up over his cheeks. He looked around the group quickly, as if searching for – something – before looking back to Dean.

 

“Come on Sam, don’t leave me hanging here,” Dean whispered, an undercurrent of pleading in his voice.

 

Sam’s entire body slumped, deflating like the air let out of a balloon. “You’re – You’re not fucking with me? Cause that would be a damn mean joke.”

 

“I wouldn’t joke about this, Sammy. I told you nothing would ever come before you and I meant it. This is just making it official.”

 

Sam closed his eyes for a second. “Yes.”

 

Dean jumped when their friends burst into clapping. Even Crowley was grinning, offering Dean a deep eye roll when their gazes met.

 

Mary rose from her seat and pulled them both into a hug.

 

“I’m proud of you,” She whispered.

 

“Thanks, Mom. You’ll be there, right?”

 

“Wouldn’t miss my son’s wedding for the world.” She reached out and stroked her thumb over Sam’s jaw. “Especially not both sons.”

 

The door the bunker creaked then, drawing everyone’s gaze up to the top of the stairs. No one should be coming in. Action was pure instinct for the hunters and supernatural creatures sitting around the table. They all rose, taking various places around the room, pulling out previously concealed weapons of choice. Dean stepped in front, raising his pistol toward the staircase. Sam pulled close behind him, demon blade gripped firmly in his left hand. Shooting would be nearly impossible left handed but he could still stab something.

 

Slow, heavy footsteps echoed through the bunker until a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. He leaned over the railing and the gun slowly slipped out of Mary’s hands. Dean’s own arms lowered, his mouth dropping open.

 

“Dad?”

 

John looked over the sight of the hunters, his eyes finally landing on Dean.

 

“Merry Christmas, boys. Some guy named Chuck said you’d explain why I’m back here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me through this lovely little angsty, fluffy series. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Happy Holidays - this is my gift to you all.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written as a commission from a lovely friend on Tumblr who saved my ass at a really tough time. I hope she, and all of you that have been asking me about a continuation, enjoy!

“You realize that you are talking crazy right now, right?”

 

Dean shrugged, looking smaller and younger than he had in years. John paced back and forth along the hallway, rubbing his temples. He still looked the same as he had that fateful day in the hospital – though now very much alive and _very_ confused.

 

“It’s just how things are now, Dad,” Sam tried, jumping a little when John turned on him.

 

“No, no this isn’t just how things are. Your mother has been dead for _years_. And suddenly she’s just back?”

 

“Amara brought her back for us,” Dean tried again.

 

“Amara? Who is _God’s sister_? God doesn’t have a sister! God doesn’t exist!”

 

“Well, actually he does. But he prefers Chuck. He’s the one who brought you back.”

 

“Chuck.” John blinked a few times at his sons. “I need a drink.”

 

Dean held up his finger. “That I can handle. I’ll be right back, Sammy,” He rushed off before Sam could protest being left alone with their very irate father.

 

***

 

In the kitchen, Mary was talking quietly with Jody, Cas, and Max. Dean entered and Mary rushed over to him. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine. He’s freaking out,” Dean admitted, digging around on the shelves for a bottle of whiskey. “Any luck getting ahold of Chuck, Cas?”

 

“Of course not. Did you expect anything else?” Cas grumped. Jody smiled weakly, squeezing Cas’ shoulder.

 

“You tried,” she consoled.

 

“So that’s your father,” Max said.

 

“Yep.”

 

“Who doesn’t know about you and Sam, does he?”

 

Dean stilled, his fingers brushing the bottle. “Shit. I didn’t even think of that.” He grabbed the bottle and whipped around. “What the hell are we gonna do? Hiding this from Mom nearly destroyed us – we can’t go through that crap again.”

 

Mary shook her head. “Right now I think you two make out in front of him and he’d still be trying to wrap his head around me being alive. I love the man but he tends to hyperfocus.”

 

“Considering he dragged us around for twenty some years hunting Azazel after he killed you – hyperfocus is an understatement.”

 

Dean rubbed his temples. “Where did Crowley and Rowena go? The last thing he needs is to see a damn demon in the Bunker.”

 

“They’re in the library with Alicia, I think. Trying to figure out where the hell your Dad came from.”

 

“Good, can you keep them there until Sam and I get him at least a little tipsy? I’d rather him _not_ try to kill the King of Hell.”

 

Max nodded and hurried out of the kitchen.

  
“What can we do?” Jody asked, stepping up to Dean and setting her hands on his arms.

 

“Just—I have no idea.”

 

She smiled softly and took the bottle from him. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” She said carefully. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

 

It took Dean a moment, but he reciprocated, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “I can’t let this screw up me and Sam again. Or this family – we just got everyone together,” He admitted, sounding close to tears.

 

“He won’t, Dean,” Mary said softly, coming up and touching his back. “We’ll all figure this out, together.”

 

Dean pulled back and took a deep breath. “I’m gonna get him a drink before he and Sam get into it.”

 

“Do you want me to come with?” Mary offered.

 

“God, no. I think he might faint if he sees you again. Let us try to calm him down and then I’ll come get you.”

 

She nodded, squeezing his shoulder once more. He grabbed a stack of glasses and headed back to the hallway.

 

***

 

“Dad, please—“

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Sam,” John mumbled.

 

Dean could hear them arguing from the hallway. They’d moved their discussion into one of the spare bedrooms. Their father had only been in the bunker for an hour and things were already going to shit.

 

Steeling himself for a blow up, Dean pushed open the door. Sam was sitting on the bed, a pleading expression on his face. John was leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly.

 

“Lucifer, Sam? You should have known better.”

 

“Guys,” Dean said carefully. Years of growing up with these two taught him that breaking up a fight like theirs was a bit like diffusing a bomb.

 

“You let your brother say yes to _Lucifer_? Why the hell did you think that was a good idea?” John went after Dean once he spoke.

 

Dean felt anger bubble inside him. “He won. _We_ won. Him saying yes to Lucifer was the best thing he could have done, Dad. Don’t jump on him for that. Have a drink and calm down.”

 

Dean poured a glass for each of them and sat next to Sam.

 

John emptied the glass then grabbed the bottle, taking another long drink. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply before taking a seat in the desk chair. “Okay, start from the beginning again. Don’t leave anything out,” His words were softer now.

 

“Okay, um, after you died, we went to Bobby. We ended up stumbling over a message on one of your phones, from Ellen. You hadn’t mentioned her, so we went to check it out. That’s how we found the Harvelle’s.”

 

John smiled weakly. “I didn’t do right by them. How’s Jo?”

 

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. “They’re all dead, Dad. They died a few years back when we—When we were going after Lucifer.”

 

A shadow crossed John’s face but he nodded. “That’s how it is for hunters. Keep going.”

 

Sam picked up the story then, “Ash helped us figure out the connection between the special kids – ones like me who had powers. Azazel was using us to try and get into this devil’s gate. We were supposed to fight to the death and the winner would lead his Army of demons.”

 

“And you won, I’m supposing.”

 

Sam laughed scornfully. “I got stabbed in the back and died in Dean’s arms.”

 

John went pale. “What? You—Did this Chuck bring you back too?”

 

“I made a deal,” Dean said softly, wincing when John turned to him. “I got one year and Sam got to live.”

 

“How’d you slip it?”

  
“I didn’t. I went to Hell. But, we were able to kill Yellow Eyes – Azazel – before. You crawled out of Hell and helped us – you don’t remember?”

 

“I don’t remember anything from Earth. I remember talking to Sam and Azazel and making the deal. I remember telling you to watch out for Sammy. And then I was with Mary and you boys as kids. Heaven, I guess it was.”

 

Dean nodded. “Sounds like it.”

 

“So you went to Hell, Dean. How did you make it out?”

 

“I was there for four months. I did some –“ Dean hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath. “Some bad stuff. Cas – Castiel, the angel. The one in the trenchcoat. He pulled me out.”

 

“An angel in a trenchcoat pulled you out?” John spoke slowly, like Dean was stupid.

 

Sam laughed a little. “I don’t think he was wearing a trenchcoat then. But yeah, he saved Dean. Course, we found out that he saved him so he could start the Apocalypse, but –“

 

“How could Dean start the Apocalypse?”

 

The room went silent for a moment. Sam didn’t know what to say. He glanced over at Dean, who had his head down, staring into the amber liquid at the bottom of his glass.

 

“And it is written, that the First Seal shall be broken when a Righteous Man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.” Dean’s voice was broken as he spoke those words spat at him so many years ago. He lifted his head slowly.

 

“I was too weak. I broke in Hell and it broke the First Seal. Sixty-four seals followed, and then the final one. Then Lucifer was free.”

 

“Dean, you didn’t know,” Sam whispered.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I still did it.”

 

“Son,” John said softly, silent until Dean met his eyes. “If you didn’t know, it doesn’t really put you at fault, does it? Even if you did do it – you couldn’t have known. I didn’t know any of that.”

 

“And you’re not the only one at fault, Dean. I broke the Final Seal,” Sam admitted.

 

“How?” John asked.

 

Sam hung his head and began to tell his part of the story. He left nothing out: Ruby, the demon blood, the fight between Dean and himself, every single piece he could remember.

 

When he finished, he looked up slowly, afraid of what he’d see in John’s eyes. But instead of hatred or disgust as he expected, John looked sad.

 

“I’m so sorry, Sam. I wish I could have protected you both better.”

 

“Dad, you died to save me,” Dean said softly.

 

“And I should have done more. I should have fought to save all of us. This all got out of hand.”

 

“We handled it, Dad. As a family. Dean and I. We used what you taught us and what Bobby taught us – we saved the world, Dad. If you hadn’t done what you did, I—I don’t think we could have,” Sam said.

 

John smiled weakly. “Thanks for that, Sammy.”

 

Dean cleared his throat. “So, um – after Lucifer got free we ended up going through a shit ton of stress to put him _back_ in the cage – Sam ended up jumping in to lock him back up.”

 

“Man, I never thought angels would be such dicks,” John commented. Both Dean and Sam began to laugh then.

 

“What?” John asked, surprised by the outburst.  
  
“That’s exactly what Dean said about them,” Sam explained. “I guess I forgot how much alike you two could be.”

 

John chuckled. “You boys grew up good.”

 

“We had help,” Dean said.

 

“So, after you locked up Lucifer – did the angel, uh, Castiel, pull you out too?”

 

“Yeah, but he left a bit behind. Um, my soul.”

 

“I’m sorry?”

 

Sam chuckled. The brothers launched into an explanation of Sam’s soulless journey, including the information about Mary and her parents being hunters.

 

John held up a hand at that. “So she’s a hunter? She hunted before she knew me?”

 

“And after,” Dean said. “She was still hunting after I was born.”

 

“How did I never know?”

 

“You know how hunters are, Dad. We’re good at faking it.”

 

John slumped a little in the chair, taking another swig from the bottle of whiskey. “Holy shit.”

 

“I wish she would’ve told you – it would have saved all of us a lot of trouble,” Dean added, rubbing the back of his neck. “But she wanted out – I get why she didn’t say anything, you know?”

 

“Yeah, yeah… I know. Just… Bit of a shock.”

 

“And coming back to life ten years after you died isn’t?” Sam joked, and John snorted.

 

“You’ve got a point. Guess not much else can surprise me now, huh?”

 

Dean chuckled nervously. “Well, uh – I went to Purgatory.”

 

“Purgatory is real?”

 

The brothers nodded solemnly. Dean explained his time there, including Benny despite his father’s glare at the word ‘vampire’.

 

“He was a good guy, Dad. Really. A lot has changed since you passed – we’re learning to see the grey area with monsters. They aren’t _all_ bad,” Sam defended. “Benny killed himself to save me when I went to Purgatory.”

 

“Why did _you_ go?” John asked, his expression making it clear he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know.

 

“I was doing these trials. To seal up Hell.”

 

“You _sealed_ it?”

 

“No,” Sam admitted, hanging his head. “I uh, I couldn’t finish. I failed.”

 

“What stopped you?”

 

“The final trial was suicide, Dad. It would have killed Sam. I couldn’t let that happen,” Dean said when it was clear that Sam wasn’t going to admit it. “I stopped him.”

 

John sighed softly, nodding. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

 

Johns shrugged. “You boys have always been willing to sacrifice everything for each other. Friends, family – sometimes you don’t think right when it’s your brother on the line. I guess that’s my fault – the way I raised you boys. But I’m glad you didn’t, in a way. I’m glad coming back, I’m coming back to both my boys. No matter how twisted the world’s gotten.”

 

The brothers smiled softly, surprised at their father’s admittance.

 

“So what else is there? After Purgatory and those Leviathan things – where did God and his sister come in?”

 

Dean chuckled. “Well, see, I had to take on something called the Mark of Cain. So I could use the First Blade.”

 

“The First Blade? It’s not a myth?”

 

“No, it was real. But only Cain – he was a Knight of Hell – could use it. So I found him and he gave me the Mark but it uh – it screwed me up pretty bad.”

 

“How so?”

 

“I became a demon.”

 

John stared blankly at his eldest son. “You _became_ a demon? Like, black eyes and a thirst for blood?”

 

“And sex and booze and pretty much everything bad. Yeah. Ex-Knight of Hell at your service,” Dean joked, laughing nervously when John’s shocked expression didn’t change.

 

“And you’re not… Still… A demon… Right?”

 

“No, no. Sammy saved me,” Dean said, smiling over at Sam.

 

“How?”

 

“The Trials I kept him from doing? One of them was curing a demon. Ends up it worked on me too. It’s an awesome cure – we can teach you it. We don’t use it very often because it’s easier to kill or exorcise them, but it’s good to have on tap if we need it.”

 

“You can kill demons?”

 

“Yeah, we have a knife that can. Got it from Ruby,” Sam said.

 

“The demon you slept with.”

 

Sam winced. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

 

“Okay, so you were a demon, and Sam cured you. I’m still not seeing where God and his sister come in.”

 

“See, even after he cured me, I still had the Mark. And it was still screwing me up. I was in a bad place. Violent, downright murderous – it was just bad for everyone. I was dangerous,” Dean admitted.

 

“So I started looking for a way to get rid of the Mark,” Sam said.

 

“But what we didn’t know was the Mark was actually kind of a key, keeping something called the Darkness off Earth. The Darkness is Amara, God’s sister. So when Sam was able to get rid of the Mark, it freed her. Which was a very bad thing,” Dean finished.

 

“But she brought your Mom back – she doesn’t seem all that bad.”

 

“She’s not. I mean, she was – she was definitely trouble for a while. But she was just mad,” Sam explained.

 

“See, Chuck, her brother, locked her up to keep the Earth safe. She wasn’t happy about that. Really it boiled down to one huge sibling argument on a planetary scale,” Dean said.

 

“So, how did you save the Earth from her?” John asked.

 

“We got Chuck to talk to her. They got over their issues, like siblings do, and brought Mom, and I guess you, back as a thank you to us.”

 

John nodded slowly, trying to take in all the information.

 

“I know it’s a lot to handle,” Dean said.

 

“It is but – I’m a hunter, I guess stuff like this shouldn’t surprise me. So you boys are still hunting? Living here in this bunker with all of those other hunters, and your Mom?”

 

“Yes and no,” Dean said, “Me and Sammy live here alone. The people you saw are our friends. They’re visiting because of Christmas. Kind of a family gathering. Mom doesn’t live here – she hunts on her own, but she came back when Sam broke his wrist to help us out a little while it heals.”

 

“So all these hunters – you have a great support system. Things have certainly changed.”

 

“They’re not all hunters. Some are just – friends,” Dean said tentatively, knowing he’d need to tell John the truth.

 

“But they know what you do?”

 

“They’re… Creatures.”

 

“Other angels?”

 

Dean snorted. “God no, we avoid those things as much as we can. Cas is the only angel and he’s like a brother to us. But there’s three witches. Two hunt and one just helps us out – she’s the one that was strong enough to remove the Mark. She’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s handy in a pinch.”

 

“So good witches exist?”

 

Sam and Dean both chuckled. “Well after we tried to kill her about a thousand times we figured having her on our side might not be a bad thing. She’s done a lot to help us.”

 

John nodded slowly. “Well that’s not too bad, I guess.”

 

“There’s also a demon.”

 

“You’re friends with a demon?” John spluttered.

 

“King of Hell, actually,” Sam said, laughing a little even as Dean glared over at him.

 

“Why are you friends with a demon?”

 

“He’s a dick. He’s self-righteous and petty, but he’s useful. He got pretty much all of Hell together to help us fight Amara – that says something to me. And he works with us – keeps his demons off our ass when he can. We saved his ass a couple of times, maybe he feels like he owes us. I can’t promise we’ll _always_ be on good terms with him—“

 

“I still want to stab him in the face sometimes,” Sam admitted, and Dean chuckled.

 

“True. But for now, he’s a good asset. He’s strong and he can get places that we can’t. Plus his powers are useful, same as the witch.”

 

“And the rest? They’re just humans, right?”

 

“Yeah. Two sheriffs – we’ve helped them out a few times and they hunt now. Two new hunters, one of the sheriffs is raising them because they lost their families to this crap. One other hunter we ran into on a case, and Mom.”

 

“Who is also hunting.”

 

Dean and Sam both nodded.

 

“Do you want to meet everyone?” Sam asked, shrugging. “I know it’s a lot, but – since you’re back. Maybe you’d wanna see the people we have on our side.”

 

John’s jaw twitched before he nodded. “Okay, let’s meet your group.”

 

The brothers led him out and into the library where everyone save for Mary had gathered. One by one, they introduced their friends to John, explaining briefly how they met said person, short explanations of the banshee case with Eileen or Asa’s funeral with the twins.

 

It was clear no one was sure how to act around John, but Jody didn’t let that stop her. She grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake when the brothers introduced her.

 

“You have some amazing sons, sir.”

 

John looked surprised, to say the least. “Uh—Thank you?”

 

“Sam and Dean are two of the bravest men I’ve met. You should be damn proud of them.”

 

“I—I am,” John said hesitantly. Jody’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Good. You’d better be. These two are heroes.”

 

Dean glanced between the two for a second, sensing the tension. He cleared his throat. “Uh, we met Jody back when we were with Bobby still. Helped her on a case. Zombies.”

 

“Zombies?” John snorted. “That one I’ve gotta hear.”

 

“We’ll tell you about it later,” Sam assured him, pushing him toward Crowley, Cas, and Rowena, who were towards the other side of the library, still focused on trying to find a spell to speak to Chuck.

 

Cas looked up first. “No luck yet.”

 

“It’s fine. We’ll figure it out,” Dean said. “Dad, this is Cas.”

 

“The angel?”

 

“Mhm.”

 

Cas cocked his head and stepped forward, eyeing John up and down for a moment. “Good to meet you.”

 

“Um, you too. I heard you saved Dean – from Hell.”

 

“Not nearly soon enough, though I did my best. I am still making it up to these two.”

 

“Uh, oh.” John rubbed the back of his neck. “So, angels look like humans? I guess I pictured you more – winged.”

 

“This is simply a vessel. I do have wings, though it would burn your eyes from your skull if you were to look upon my true visage.”

 

“What?”

 

“He’s not kidding. It’s pretty gross. Watched it happen,” Sam assured John, pushing him toward the other two.

 

Rowena smiled widely at John, her gaze predatory. “The great John Winchester. Well I have seen it all now.”

 

“This is Rowena,” Dean muttered.

 

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand, giving it an overeager shake. “I see where your boys got their good looks.”

 

“Mother, please don’t flirt with the married man.”

 

“I’m only being polite, Fergus,” Rowena snapped.

 

“Fergus?”

  
“It’s Crowley,” Crowley said, nudging Rowena out of the way to shake John’s hand. “My mother refuses to use my chosen name.”

 

“Your m—His mother?” John looked at his sons. Dean smiled weakly.

 

“Rowena is a centuries old witch. Before Crowley became a demon he was her son. Fergus. Now he’s the King of Hell.”

 

Crowley smirked over at Dean. “Correct. Nice to meet you, John. I have heard many tales of your endeavors.”

 

“Uh—Thanks?”

 

“Must be strange, being back on Earth after so long,” Rowena said.

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of a shock.”

 

“And with so much changed.”

 

“Things are different. I certainly never expected to see my sons in bed with—non-human, uh… People.”

 

Crowley smirked. “They’re in bed with someone in this room, but it certainly isn’t my mother and I.”

 

“What?”

 

“Okay, why don’t we go take you to see Mom now?” Dean said, quickly. He and Sam were both glaring at Crowley.

 

“Yeah, I know she’s probably really eager to see you again,” Sam added. As Dean led John toward the kitchen Sam pointed to Crowley and made a slashing motion across his throat with his finger.

 

Crowley smirked and shrugged. ‘Demon,’ He mouthed. Sam’s eyes narrowed before he turned to follow John.

 

The brothers returned to the library shortly after, wanting to give their parents some time alone to talk. Dean slumped in one of the chairs and Sam hefted himself onto the table next to him.

 

“So, that’s your Dad,” Eileen said.

 

“Yep, that’s John Winchester.”

 

“What are you guys going to do?” She asked, looking between them.

 

“Same thing we did with Mom, I guess. Let him move at his own pace – figure out where he fits in.” Dean shrugged as he spoke.

 

“I meant about you two. You’re getting married.”

 

Dean sighed and shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

 

“We’ll wait,” Sam said. He looked down after he spoke, playing with a threadbare spot on his jeans.

 

“Sam—I don’t want to wait.”

 

“Come on, Dean. I’m not dumb. I know you don’t want Dad to find out about us – he’d kill us. We’ll just do what we did with Mom. Keep it from him, have our moments alone.”

 

“Damnit, Sam. Do you know how tough it was for me to stand up in front of our family tonight and ask you to marry me? I’m not joking – I have all the paperwork in my room. I’ve had it for weeks. Us hiding it again – it’s going to break us up. Just like hiding it from Mom did.”

 

“Dad’s not going to be as cool with it as Mom, Dean. You and I both know that.”

 

“How do you know? And even so, who cares?” Jody asked, crossing her arms. “You two are in love, any idiot can see that. Do you know how lucky you are to have that? In this life? I may not be a real hunter. And I haven’t hunted as long as anyone in this room, but I’ve learned enough. It shouldn’t matter that you’re brothers. Hunters live on the outside of society anyways. Max and Alicia have made it work, and look at how happy they are. Every hunter I’ve met that knows them knows they’re siblings and in a relationship. Why should you two be any different?”

 

“You’re a real hunter,” Sam muttered then hung his head again, not sure how else to respond.

 

“She’s right, you know,” Max said slowly.

 

“She is. Hunters can’t settle down like normal folks. We’ve gotta take love and happiness where we can find it. Even if it’s in our families,” Alicia added, taking Max’s hand. “I – for one – don’t intend to hide what Max and I have because your father might not understand. And you two shouldn’t either.”

 

“It’s different, Alicia. You’re not his kids. We are. He raised us.”

 

“So?”

 

“Moose – if I may,” Crowley approached slowly. “I like you two. For humans, and for hunters, you’re decent men and you’re happiest together. My time with you guys has shown me that. Hiding that – it’s going to separate you again, and things don’t really seem to work out very well when you’re separated.”

 

Dean smiled a little at Crowley, touched that he spoke up. Crowley nodded to him, setting a hand on his shoulder.

 

“No one in this room judges you two for your relationship, guys. We’re all happy for you. You boys have done so much to make all of us happy, save our lives sometimes. We’re going to have your back if your Dad doesn’t react well,” Donna said, reaching out to touch Sam’s shoulder.

 

“Hunters lose everything. Family, friends, _everything_. So when we find each other, when we put together a group of friends or family or whatever we are to you two – we fight to keep it. Against everything,” Eileen said. She reached out and set her hand on Sam’s knee. “We’re here for you two.”

 

“Plus, it’s all of us. There’s people – creatures – from all different walks of life here. Even your Dad has to understand – seeing all of us supporting you two – that what you’ve got is good,” Max said.

 

“You don’t know our Dad,” Dean admitted.

 

“We don’t. But we know you two. We know your Mom. That’s enough,” Claire said, crossing her arms. “You’re old and you’re weird and you’re freaks. But you helped me a lot.”

 

Sam’s throat closed as their friends each spoke, offering support and caring. He looked down at Dean, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

 

Dean looked up, meeting his gaze. “I’m tired of being ashamed of what we’ve got, Sammy. If Dad doesn’t like it – the United States is a big place. He can pick a spot far away from us if he needs to. I don’t wanna shut him out, I won’t let us shut him out. But I’m not going to hurt you anymore.”

 

Sam sighed, a soft smile crossing his face. “Okay.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “We’ll tell him,” He said against Dean’s lips.

 

***

 

The bunker was strangely quiet for the amount of people in it. Every person at dinner had chosen to stay an additional few days to offer their support when Sam and Dean told their father the truth. They were all in their bedrooms or scattered through the various research spaces.

 

Mary sat in Sam and Dean’s bedroom, listening quietly as they talked through their ideas on telling their Dad the truth. John was sleeping, as far as they knew, in one of the other bedrooms.

 

“So, what do you think?” Dean asked.

 

“I think you two are right – you shouldn’t hide it from him. I don’t know how he’ll take it. As much as I love him – he has changed so much since we were alive together. But you boys are adults, and you’re very much in love. My opinion and your father’s – though important – shouldn’t break you up or force you to hide.”

 

“Your opinion? I thought you were okay with us?” Sam said.

 

“I am. It’s odd, yes, but I understand. I know hunting, believe me. This doesn’t come as a huge surprise to me because of that. Your father hunted alone, or with you two for his entire life. He doesn’t understand the hunting community as well as he thinks he does. Because of that, he may have a hard time accepting it. But I do think telling him the truth is important.”

 

“How do you think we should do it?” Dean asked, setting his hand on Sam’s knee.

 

“I think just being honest is the way to go here, boys. Doing anything else, letting him see you kiss or hold hands or worse – that’s just going to shock him and it could cause a very negative response.”

 

“Just telling him we’re screwing won’t?” Sam asked, chuckling a little.

 

“Well, I’d word it in a less graphic way. Even if you two weren’t brothers I certainly don’t think he’d like to hear about you ‘screwing’ anyone, Sam,” Mary said, a teasing smile crossing her face.

 

Sam’s cheeks pinked and he looked down, chuckling. “Good point.”

 

“Okay, I guess we just go tell Dad the truth.”

 

“Tell me the truth about what?”

 

The brothers both jumped apart, rising from the bed and turning. John was standing in the doorway. He was clearly more well rested, and less in shock than he’d been earlier.

  
“Uh—“ Sam tried to speak but couldn’t get the words to come out.

 

Dean stepped forward. “Dad, come in here a second. Shut the door? We gotta talk about something.”

 

John raised an eyebrow but did as Dean requested, sitting on the bed they’d just vacated. “Sounds serious.”

 

“Uh, I guess—“ Dean chuckled weakly. Mary rose, setting her hands on each brother’s shoulder.

  
“It’s okay, boys. Just be honest.”

 

Dean sighed, looking back up at his father. “Um, Sam and I haven’t been totally honest with you about the things that have changed since you died.”

 

“Okay…”

  
“Th—We’re…”

 

“We’re more than brothers, Dad,” Sam said softly, reaching out to grip Dean’s hand.

 

They both went still, waiting for the screaming to start or John to take a swing – or anything but the silence that had fallen over the bedroom.

 

It was nearly five minutes before John spoke. “Okay.”

 

Dean looked up quickly. “Okay? Just – okay? Did you understand what we said?”

 

“Of course I understood, Dean. I’m not stupid. I’ve also known about you two since Sammy was thirteen.”

 

Sam’s head whipped up, his cheeks pinking. “What?”

 

“That’s when you and Dean got together, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, but h—How did you know?”

 

John smiled softly. “You’re my sons. Do you know how difficult it is for a child to truly hide anything from his parents? I had suspicions early on, the way you two were always so close together, the looks you shared when you thought I couldn’t see. What confirmed it for me was the day I looked into the bedroom of that motel room in Augusta and saw Dean biting your neck with your hand down the front of his jeans.”

 

Dean turned red from his scalp to his chest. “Y—You saw that?”

 

“I’m surprised you remember it – I saw a lot more over the years.”

 

“Of course, I remember it. That’s the day—“ Dean stopped himself, looking over at Sam, who was equally as red.

 

“It was a special time,” Sam filled in.

 

John nodded, putting it together. “Well, after that I really struggled. I wanted to say something to you two, but – This was my fault. I knew that. I raised you boys to depend on no one but each other. To trust no one but each other, and to care for no one but each other. I guess it was only logical that the next step would be—that.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Dad,” Dean said.

 

“It was and everyone in this room knows it. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. You two keep each other alive. It’s not like you’re hurting anyone and you can’t have kids so there’s no risk there. It’s twisted and strange – but we hunt monsters for a living. Your Mom and me came back from the dead. Twisted and strange is an everyday occurrence for us.”

 

“So, you—Don’t hate us?” Sam clarified, still shocked at the turn of events.

 

“No. I could never hate my boys. I know why you kept it from me, but it was all pretty obvious. I didn’t even have to try to look.”

 

“Oh come on, we were careful,” Dean defended.

 

John’s eyebrows shot up. “Dean, the days you’d swear up and down you two had never left the motel but the entire room _reeked_ of sex. The days you and Sam would shower together to save water but you’d come out of the bathroom with more bruises than you were wearing when you went in. The times you’d be sleeping and whispering each other’s names. All the times you argue with me – fight me tooth and nail – to let you stay in the same room so you could keep each other safe. The nights I’d give in and stay in the next room over, I’d hear the bed thumping against the wall and no woman sounds like that when she’s having an orgasm. If that’s being careful I am truly surprised that you boys are still alive with our job.”

 

Sam and Dean were both beet red by the time John finished speaking.

 

“We had no idea you – we were trying not to let you know,” Sam said weakly.

 

“I know you were. But I’m glad I did know. Dean’s heart was broken when you left for college, Sam. If I didn’t know you two were intimate – I would’ve been a hell of a lot tougher on him. Told him to get over it a lot faster than I did. Because a breakup like that is a whole hell of a lot worse than a brother leaving, even a close one.”

 

Sam hung his head. Dean set his hand on Sam’s lower back. “Hey, I forgave you for that, Sammy.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t still feel bad over it.”

 

“You shouldn’t,” John said firmly. “You got out and you made something of yourself. I know you would have taken Dean with you if he was ready to leave hunting. You two probably would have settled down where no one knew you were brothers – I understand why you left and so does Dean. You came back too – I think that’s something too.”

 

“I couldn’t say no to Dean.”

 

“I know you couldn’t,” John said.

 

Mary smiled softly and went over to John, sitting on the bed next to him. She reached over and twined her fingers with his, giving his rough hand a soft squeeze. “Our boys also have another surprise. Something very big and very special happened right before you came in.”

 

John looked over at her and then up at the brothers. “You didn’t get that witch to make you pregnant, did you?”

 

Both brothers laughed at that. “God, no – I don’t even think that’s possible. And if it is I sure as hell don’t want to be,” Dean admitted.

 

“No, um—Dean asked me to marry him,” Sam said softly.

 

John’s face spread in a wider grin than either brother had ever seen before. “You’re getting married? I get to see my son’s wedding?”

 

“Well, we’re not doing anything major for it – Just the people you see around here, coming with us to the courthouse and then we’ll probably just go out to dinner or something. You know big flashy events aren’t our thing.”

 

“I don’t care.” John rose and grabbed Dean in a tight hug. He glanced at Sam over Dean’s shoulder and opened his arm, folding Sam into the hug.

 

John stepped back after a moment, one hand on each of his sons’ shoulders. “I know we’ve had issues in the past, boys, and I know this is a shock – but I love you both, you need to know that. And I’m proud as hell of you two.”


End file.
